IRomance of tbe Soul 
anb other poems 



3obn TH. Marbtne 




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IRomance ot tbe Soul 

anb other 

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Copyright J9n 

BY JOHN H. HARDING 

New Bedford, Mass. 






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INDEX 



PAGE 

Romance of the Soul 1 

Herr von Teuf el 65 

The New Church Pews 89 

Rondel 94 

Palestine - 94 

By Grace Through Faith 95 

Sanctified 96 

A Christmas Pipe Dream 96 

Easter 97 

License 97 

San Francisco 98 

Ad Oculus 99 

Smiles 100 

Autumn 101 

The Press 101 

The Artist's Dream 103 

Yuletide 103 

And is Old Noah so Soon Forgot. .' 104 

A Lingual Diagnosis 105 

Declension 105 

Automobiling 106 

Villanelle. (Two Suitors) 107 

Evening 107 

Why Should We Mortals Growl and Groan 108 

Three Score Years and Ten 109 

Noon 110 

The Corinthian Capital. 110 

The Bibliophile 110 

Rondeau : (It is a Trust) Ill 

Answer 112 

Hot Weather Philosophy 112 

Yakiguma 113 

Life 114 

Art Thou Willing? (Rondeau.) Answer 115 

Springtime and Summer 116 



iv INDEX 

PAGE 

Tom Blizzard, My Pard 117 

The Rake : Such is Life. (Rondeau) 118 

Rejuvenation 118 

Howling Humanity 119 

A Frieze 121 

Priscilla 's Umbrella 121 

The Church Trial 122 

Tibi Seris, Tibi Metis 123 

The Hen and the Owl 124 

Not a Cent in His Pocket to Pay What He Owes 125 

Mythological Mixture Dress 126 

The Press 127 

Man versus Nature 127 

Zwei Steine 128 

Mikelite 129 

Two Kinds of Paint Skins 130 

Fish, Clams and Swine 131 

The Firemen's Playout 131 

New Bedford , 132 

The Parade 133 

The Commission 135 

The Pilgrim Club 137 

To the Pilgrim Club 138 

Jontomike 141 



IRomancc 
of tbe Soul 



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IRomance 
ot tbc Soul 



Who can interpret man's thoughts in dreamland 1 
Who can tell us what life is while waking? 
Why this vast throng of endless creation, 
Unceasingly moving on to some goal 
Of unknown existence? Millions going, 
Millions coming, the ranks never thinning. 
What are these visions that steal o'er our senses? 
Our thoughts transformed into romances wild, 
Threads of waking moods, fantastic weavings 
Woven in slumber land's mystic abode. 
Friends or enemies, long since departed. 
Meet without wonder at their appearing. 
Are we in their world while in our slumber ? 
Are they hovering like us approaching 
Near the boundary line betwixt here and there ? 
Once in dreamland my spirit wandering. 
Brought to my vision the scenes I relate. 
The light of day was fast disappearing. 
Yet sunlight still tinted far distant hills. 
While the pale moon aloft was a-waiting. 
To chill the broad valley with ghostly light. 

On a knoll o'erlooking field and forest. 

Two forms were standing outlined on the sky. 

Old age and fair youth in silence gazing 



I ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

Out over valley to ocean beyond. 
Slowly approaching I stood beside them, 
Venturing I asked, ''Whence art thou going'?" 
Age answered, "I'm going on to yon ocean, 
Beyond the pale of mortal existence 
Seeking that light which mortals so long for, 
Where souls departed await my coming. 
Twice on this knoll have I been waiting. 
Once I awoke it was only a dream. 
Now it is real, I know it and feel it. 
Here cool is the green sod, soft 'neath my feet. 
Then like a bird I flew o 'er the hilltops ; 
Now like a mortal I tread the firm earth. 
And here is my youth standing beside me, 
Guileless and pure guiding me on to the end. 
Clearly I feel a power intermingling, 
Giving my soul all the strength I require 
To pass through portals blazoned. Immortal." 

Thus his words flowed in tune to my feeling. 
Rising and falling in slow spoken numbers. 
Pausing he seemed in deep meditation. 
His eyes giving forth soulful entreaties, 
In accents now changed, thus he addressed me. 



' ' Join youth and age and with us seek the truth ; 
And let our spirits dwell in unity, 
Childhood, Manhood, Old Age, and thus thou art 
The link that binds this trinity of souls 
That joins us each to youth. Let's clasp our hands, 
The blood will flow more freely through our veins, 

'T will make the circuit of desire complete. 
And thou^ fair mortal, wandering here alone, 
In all the vigor of thy proud manhood. 
Will follow on, or lead the way with youth. 

We'll rest beyond upon the river bank." 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

' ' To wait and watch the moon and passing clouds. 
Some kindly soul from spirit land will come 
To tell us of its home among the stars. 
Let faith inspire thy hope until the end, 
The longings of the soul will be fulfilled. 
The way slopes steeply down below this knoll, 
The forest on the left is black with shade, 
I will lead you through darkness to the light. 
For soon the moon will shine on scenes beyond.'' 
I saw a river from the knoll above. 
Sparkling brightly between the trees and hills, 
Flowing from us on to the far off sea. 

"This steep, winding path seems to have no end. 
Now darker grows the shade, come closer Youth, 
Let me clasp thy hand, Manhood lead us on. 
So dense the foliage I see no light, 
No pathway leads our feet ; the earth is soft 
With plant moss ; giant trees bar the way. 
Their huge roots seem creeping out o'er the ground. 
Curling like monster serpents 'neath our feet." 

'' I feel it all, old man, I'm as one blind. 
Yet trusting in thy wisdom, still I trust 
In thy keen hope for light, I join my faith. 
That which we seek we in the end shall find. 
Thy Youth and I will lead thee o'er the way. 
Let's linger here upon the mossy turf. 
It is inviting to our weary limbs. 
The moon is covered by a clouding sky. 
But soon its light will help us on our course. 

" Young man, thy faith is what I ask of thee. 
My Youth and I will rest with thee awhile. 
This is the darkest moment of my life. 
Within and without it is all the same. 
Heavily hangs depression o'er my heart. 



4 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

The stillness makes me whisper what I'd say. 

Thou art a younger pilgrim on life's road; 

I'm nearing now the mortal end of man, 

My age is more than three score years and ten ; 

I've known earth's joys, my sorrows were not brief 

My thoughts were cast within a mold that wrought 

Impressions on my mind that will remain. 

Until I reach the goal for all who live 

Bej^ond the shadow of life's mystery. 

Life is a dream to mortals wide awake, 

Seeking that which death has for each in store ; 

I, not alone, but all our thoughtful race 

Have stirred all nature up for some new scheme, 

To solve the problem of our future life. 

The noonday sun of life now warms thy blood. 

Thy faith enhances all my fondest hopes. 

Responding to such things that do appear 

To have an outward semblance of the truth. 

' ' We live in mental zones, each has his own. 
No two living minds sense the world alike ; 
The perfume of the rose is sweet to all. 
And nature, in all its grandeur doth appeal 
With sublime power to those whose lives are pure. 
I have longed and prayed seeking for the truth, 
For light to answer cravings of my heart, 
I 've listened to the words of mortal man, 
Exliortations that stirred my very soul; 
Have met the devotees of every clime ; 
Beheld the worship of sun, moon and stars ; 
Each proclaiming their own the pathway to heaven. 
What is the sign of truth when pagans die 
Martyrs for their faith, in a firm belief 
That they alone are saved, all others damned. 

** Obedient earth brings forth its fruits and flowers. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 5 

Along the pathway of the summer sun ; 

And mortals toil to harvest ample stores 

That spring from the soil nourished by their god. 

I wonder not at worship such as this, 

This light it shines with a wonderous power, 

A never failing sign to all mankind, 

A wand of blazing fire that lifts to life. 

Feeding man's hungry body and the soul. 

The sun of God shines on all alike, 1 

And yet we look beyond, for we are born 

To seek still further for the power supreme, 

More exalted above, the sun and stars. 

We grasp not things we see, still would we know 

More than our poor senses can comprehend. 

''Better far to worship sun, moon, and stars. 
Steadfast tokens of the Creator's power. 
Than trespass beyond the forbidden line. 
For so it seems to me as years roll by. 
And yet life's ultimate design we seek. 
While darkness holds our vision 'neath its shroud, 
This gloom is but a part of the grand plan, 
The first degree into futurity, 
Mysteries will unfold as we move on. 

' ' Diffused throughout all space there is a force 
That lifts us up above this mortal life, 
Intuitive sensations of the mind; 
Mental zephyrs that soothe the restless heart, 
Follow on the track of the tempest's wrath, 
Great souls reach high to grasp the unseen power — 
For there 's a spark of the Divine in man, 
A spirit life on earth dreaming of heaven ; 
We feel the chord within that draws us on, 
That binds us to an universal might, 
Leading gently until we crave for more 



6 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

Of that which hungry souls have but a taste. 

"Intellect is the search-light of the soul, 
Conscience dictates and reason is impressed 
With a welcomed or an unwelcomed truth, 
Souls flutter out from their corporal clay, 
Into the deep gulf of eternal space, 
A breath unseen, unclothed, blank nakedness. 
Shall we be garbed again like human souls 
To feel old loves and friendships over there ? 
Shall fools lose all their earthly entity? 
And dumb natures that speak through soulful eyes 
Find a new life and sense in the beyond? 
These answers to my prayer we soon shall hear. 

''Earth's material wants are well supplied. 
For all its living creatures man and beast. 
The spirit reaps its heritage beyond. 
Freed from these bonds of flesh that hold us here. 
When the links are broken, the soul set free, 
To mount unblinded to our spirit life. 
And clearly see the wonders all revealed. 
Then, not 'till then, will man divine his end. 
Not through earth's vaporous uncertainty. 
But through a transparent, ethereal light. 
Where intellect unclouded needs no guide. 
There life will fill your soul with the full power 
To comprehend the vastness of the whole. 
Our mortal thoughts are tied up in the clay. 
To crawl with earthly instincts of the flesh, 
As if our sphere was but the breeding place. 
To populate other worlds with our kind. 
'T is but a thought just born within my brain, 
Perhaps disordered by this search for truth. 
Grasping at straws to solve life's mystery. 

"It's hard for man to find the fire on earth 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

That lifts liim from liimself to higher life, 
And yet that fire is kindled on this sphere ; 
Within each heart there dwells a latent spark, 
Fanned by self-sacrifice we feel its warmth. 
When self is cast aside we see the glow, 
Then smouldering goodness bursts into a flame, 
And man records his second birth on earth. 
Few mortals can or dare leap from themselves, 
They hug their idols with a selfish love 
Which lives for self alone. Greed, lust and hate. 
Life's barriers which few can overthrow. 

"When budding manhood claims its high estate. 
Soaring aloft on fancy's tireless wings. 
Life's very air seems laden with perfume. 
And heaven opens wide its gates to glory, 
Earth, air and sky in one grand melody. 
Proclaim this heritage on earth for man, 
Joy such as this falls not to all alike. 
Oft life goes forth a cripple from its birth. 
Maimed from the source of life that brought it forth. 
Staggering 'neath a load that weighs it down, 
A helpless martyr with a living soul. 

" This gloom has broke the silence of my tongue. 
My inmost thoughts I will impart to thee. 
The deliriums of the mind unloosed, 
Makes the truth appear like a fantasy 
Born for searching for the goal beyond; 
In fathoming the mysteries of life, 
Here by me sits the shadow of my youth, 
It is so life like as when there I dwelt 
Long years ago, ere I was born as now. 
From youth to manhood into this old age, 
Like Egypt's romance of departed souls 
It follows me wherever I may go, 



8 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

A silent spectre of my youthful day, 
Through it I gain the end which I desire, 
The truth that lies beyond the earthly veil. 
And thou, proud man, must follow to the end. 
For we will wander through Elysium fields. 
Wliat the heart most longs for, we will obtain. 
The ideal of thy soul dwells over there. 
Soon I will bring thee where thou willst feel 
Thou art repaid for lingering in this gloom. 
The darkness of the night has cast me down 
Into a dark abyss of mournful thought ; 
My faith is roused and light will soon appear. 

' ' I had a vision once upon that knoll. 
Where we first met and joined in search of light. 
And in that dream a man of untold years 
Appearing, spoke of Cyrus when he reigned; 
Of Egypt's woes and kingly tyrant's crimes; 
He told of most glorious scenes, of things 
That seemed like childish fables to my mind. 
He said his home was once beyond the hills. 
In a broad valley, watered by the stream 
That we were seeking when this darkness came, 
A haven for all of earth's longing souls. 
Who sought the secret of our future life. 

'' That if I with Youth and Age could appear. 
Youth and Old Age, each in separate form, 
A mirror of my childish innocence. 
And I, as I am, three score years or more, 
Would find an answer from the unknown world ; 
With blessing o 'er my head he disappeared. ' ' 

**I pondered on the thought when I awoke, 
'Twas but a dream, but now I've found my Youth, 
Here by my side he slumbers sweetly on. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 9 

It's hard to comprehend, yet it is true, 

It is the mirror of my long lost self, 

The 3^outhful vessel where my soul once dwelt, 

It carries well its perfect, childish form; 

Motion and life in its peculiar way. 

This is the idol of my craving soul. 

Here I hold the hand that will lead me on 

From out the darkness to the light beyond. 

'' We long to live and love but not to die. 
Wherefore art thou and I with hunger born ? 
If there's no future life for famished souls. 
For souls to gratify a purer sense. 
Untainted by this discord born on earth. 
Somewhere along the endless shore of stars. 
On worlds that beckon to us from afar. 
Thrilled by a life unknown upon this sphere. 
Where parent's sinning cast on us a blight. 
That clings so closely as earth's birth marks cling; 1 

Where germs of discontent cannot exist, 1 

And satisfied our tired minds find rest. j 

"I saw before the darkness brought this gloom, , 
A calmness resting on thy manly face. 

That told the story of thy earthly life. 1 

Thy passions subservient to thy will, ! 

Sees nought in the flesh but what is pure, . 

For thy proud manhood with due thoughtful strength '-. 
Controls thy body to its perfect end. 

This is not flattery for I am sincere, i 

And thy sincerity precludes false pride, ^ 

Thy features are the index of thy soul, ! 

In true manhood no vanity exists. ^ 

* * Was man once less or more than man today ? ] 

And could he solve the mystery of the plan ; 

i 
i 



10 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

That places mortals in such turmoil here ? 

Were we but as chaff blown through space to earth, 

Among which crippled seed was mixed and sown 

To be gathered when harvest time comes 'round, 

According to our deeds thus grown 'mid chaff, 

Were our beasts and insects, the fly, the ant. 

All living things that breathe and cling to life. 

Accidental vagrants from seed cast off 

Evolving to their present state through time? 

Was earth thus thrown from out some mighty sphere, 

Cast asunder to wander till it found 

Another home in the broad world of worlds? 

A portion of some grander whole broke loose. 

To gravitate around some other sun. 

Far from its nativity in foreign space ; 

Forming the nucleus of a new-born sphere. 

Where atoms grow to their destined fulness, 

And man equipped with soul and thought stalks forth 

Grown up through processes to man unknown, 

To reason on his ulterior life. 

Poor protoplastic seed of sinfulness. 

' ' Can mortal calculation trace the change ? 
A million years a day in endless time ? 
The end of periods of planet life 
Cannot be fathomed by finite man. 
Yet, if I but follow my youthful guide, 
This sublime mystery will then be solved." 
What proof has man of transmigrated souls 
To the far off realms of heaven's fixed stars'? 
Where a luminous fluid permeates all space. 
The powerful agent of action and life, 
Ascending through the galaxy of heaven. 
Shining particles of ethereal air. 
On to a lunar sphere where it unites 
With grosser air ready for mortals here, 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 11 ] 

To be transformed into another life, 
The soul incorruptible passes on 

In a phantom shape of our earthly form, ; 

A shade, a ghost of what we were on earth. 1 

The vessel of the soul may linger here, • 

Thus taught the savans on old Egypt's soil, .] 

And soon the proof will be before our eyes, \ 
Whether finite man thus has solved the scheme. 



THE VISTA. 

' ' Still here we linger on this bed of moss, 
In darkness denser than the darkest night, 
That closes o'er us like a shroud of death. 
Unlit of any light from far oil stars. 
E 'en now within my brain I feel a power 
Lifting my eyes into a kindling glow. 
No moon, no stars appear, a ghostly light 
Creeps slowly to my vision through the trees. 
And now it breaks more brightly to my view. 
Tracing a pathway to some vale below. 
Shining upon the verge from earth to arch 
Formed. by the bending branches of the trees. 
An effulgent vista leading beyond, 
And pressing to the brink where now we sit — 
The amphitheatre for spirit life. 
Look, see ye not how wonderful it is ! 
Thy face is blanched and ghastly in the glow. 
My youth seems fading through the tangled vines. 
Is it all an illusion? Seest thou?" 

" Old man, I feel all this as in a dream, 
We are alone, thy silent youth has fled. 
Let's venture to the verge and peer below." 



12 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

''Nay, venture not my friend, 'tis sacred ground; 
Rare is this precious sight we now behold. 
From out the darkness of the past we came 
With hope and fear; let's wait, my guide has gone. 
The mystery seems deeper than before. 
The light now sheds its lucent rays around. 
Softly penetrating the forest's depths, 
A drowsiness that pulls my eyelids down, 
Oppresses me, and thou art fast in sleep." 

"I am awake, old man, to this grand sight. 
While seeing, feel the languor of the hour." 
Now o 'er the light a partial darkness creeps, 
A sombre veil of opalescent red, 
Like gauzy curtain drawn of glowing mist. 
Here in their virgin strength and purity. 
Out from the forest shade slowly appear 
Two human forms crossing the mossy verge. 
Proud in the conscious glory of life's bliss. 
Their naked feet tread lightly o'er the way. 
Into the clear expanding flood of light. 
And to and fro they wander side by side. 
One plucks a flower and decks the golden hair, 
That falls around the form of his fair mate. 
He, the sturdy oak ; she, the clinging vine. 
Away they wander through the luminous light. 
Into the far off forest's deepest shade. 
Silence reigns and all nature seems at rest. 

"Our vision's narrowed by these vines and trees, 
A clearer view from the brink might we gain. 
Yet something tells me it is well to wait. 
The meaning of this scene soon will we know." 

' ' Remain, young man, and from this spot we '11 see 
All that's intended for our mortal eyes; 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 13 i 

Methinks it was the mystic chord that draws i 

In silent harmony two loving souls. i 
Life's powerful law to multiply our kind. 

Love 's purity begets the perfect child ; ; 

Debased, the seed carries a lasting blight. ': 

Thus mortals live, all born to love and die, ; 

Live as they create, creating life alone, : 

Beyond their earthly selves for others here, j 

Nearer or further from earth's paradise. ^ 

Craving carnal senses, nothing higher, j 
Perverting in the flesh our Maker's will; 

Dead to life's finest consciousness of bliss, j 

Nursing with thoughtlessness simply desire. j 

''Let's cease our speech and be now on our guard. 'I 

Feel 'st thou not a presence hovering near ? | 
I hear a voice in modulated tones 

As if 't were chanting its prelude to earth. i 

It is some spirit calling from afar, ] 

In whispered accents answering my prayer. I 

See, now, a ray of light still brighter shines | 

Down through the vista of the lighted way, j 
And floods the path beyond o'er hill and stream. 

Behold, young man, there is my Youth once more, I 

Bathed in a halo of soft violet light, ] 

Arrayed in raiment white as spotless snow. : 

List, now it speaks in tones distinctly clear. ' ' ,i 

(spirit speaks.) <I 

"Earth bound mortals, seed from Jehovah's hand ] 

Cast to grow as suits your human will, ] 

To make your sphere a paradise or hell, ; 

Your conscious being has made you what you are, j 

Deformed and weak, you wallow in the mire. ; 

Endowed with passions that belong to earth ; i 

Of the grand whole a most essential part. i 



14 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

I was an earth bound soul once tombed in clay, 
Who left your sphere long centuries ago, 
And now return in form, your youthful guide 
With tongue to utter answers to your prayer. 
The medium through which you gain the power 
To listen to a spirit's tale of life. 
Amid the starry realms of endless space, 
Your earnest longing found my shoreless home, 
Undulating waves of thought came heavenward. 
Came to my wandering soul in sweet accord. 
You struck the only note that answers back. 
While circling 'round my zone my spirit paused, 
And following the pathway of your prayer. 
With all the magic of a spirit's power, 
Causing you to behold primitive man 
Wandering with his mate in paradise, 
You comprehend the story that it told. 

PRIMITIVE MAN. 

i i Through fields of waving green they roam supreme, 
O'er hills they stroll, down by clear restful streams. 
No thought save of an inborn sense of joy. 
Thorns and serpents harm not their naked limbs ; 
Though they grow weary, sweet is their repose. 
They know sorrow, but of a kind that's made 
To lift them to a higher sense of bliss. 
Without a fear all joy is incomplete; 
As conquerors, like victors, they rejoice. 
For daily when they view the fading sun. 
Bathing all nature with its golden gleam. 
Sinking into the deep, mysterious night, 
Then they see misty spectres, artful forms. 
Dancing in the mist of that dreamy shade 
Through the translucent curtain which you saw. 
That falls at dreamy twilight's witching hour. 
Contending powers now hold them in their sway. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 15 

The might of keen desire to join the throng 
Of unknown pleasure, wanton and so weird. 
An intuitive sense of wrong they feel ; 
A higher force restrains and holds them back, 
To linger is but death, sore tried, they flee. 

''Yet loath to leave the shadow and the mist 
They often found their lingering feet inclined. 
To wander nearer the forbidden Hue, 
The sequel you two mortals know full well, 
Your earthly heritage came through their fall ; 
They left behind a longing, restless world, 
Stung to the core with what mankind terms sin. 
To tread earth's thorny pathway to the grave, 
The shrouded gateway to another life. 
The heavier the cross on earth more buoyant 
The patient soul that bows unto its load. 
To rise above the common herd of men 
When mortality from its bonds is loosed. 
For those who conquer life's besetting sins. 
And live for others not for self alone. 
Freed from selfishness, envy, and foul desire. 

"You are sons, creatures of the same power 
That gave the meek and lowly man to earth, 
That you through Him might purify your kind, 
The other worlds that move through endless space. 
May have their own prototypes for their guides. 
To lift their thoughtful beings to the light. 
If they, too, have fallen to that depth of sin. 
Which in bondage holds them as you are held. 
I have met wandering spirits passing by. 
As they were called to beings in distress. 
To worlds where they once dwelt, as I lived here. 
To comfort longing souls seeking for light." 

" Man, mortal, earth born mite of flesh and blood. 



16 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

No greater nor no less in the grand plan 

Of the Creator, than the creeping snail, 

Or the Collossus of the sea or land. 

Part of the whole, faithfully obedient 

To universal law that knows no change, 

Incomprehensible to man or beast. 

The veil of mystery impels you on. 

Craving to solve the rhythm and the rhyme. 

For well you feel life's music in your soul. 

The flowers they bloom, and do they bloom for you ? 

Does all that's sweet in life tell you a tale 

That buoys you on to future life and bliss? 

Do sere and faded things whisper of death ? 

What would you know of life without this death? 

Your reason bound within man's mortal scope. 

Shuts out the future travail of your soul. 

Yet, with another sense there would unfold 

Within your mind the mystery of life. 

For with second sight you could penetrate 

Beyond the mental vision of your race. 

And see spirits like vapors as they float 

Through space onward, upward along their course ; 

While others less purified cling to earth. 

In a desultory way, still remain 

Near friends who drag them back to earth again. 

To wander here and there, waiting release. 

To mount to higher spheres through starlit space. 

Up from the narrow cradle of their birth. 

Where immortality was but a ghost 

That haunted them with its uncertainty. 

"The endless chain of worlds thej^ then will see. 
Your speck of earth that tossed their spirit off 
To wander mid the silence of the stars 
May be as void of life as yonder orb 
That once had beings quite unlike your own. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 17 

But obedient to the power supreme, 

It fills its place for its Maker's chosen time. 

■ Mortal records of heavenly hosts you view, 
Fraught with earthly skill, are but for your day; 
Thousands of years will make them null and void. 
For mortals who live on your earth again. 
They will tell the tale, what it once has been, 
The*^ wisest of earthly kind will ne'er 
WMle earth-bound penetrate life's mysteries. 
Their wisdom here is but earth's cultured chaff, 
With their few senses they are poor indeed 
Compared to that which I may yet unfold. 

'Far off in space obscured from human ken. 
The sun of all of the celestial spheres 
Moves on attended by its hosts of worlds. 
Planets, like bubbles, burst along its course; 
All other suns grow dim and fade away, 
No matter lost, hurled through eternal space, 
Again to live as other worlds transformed. 
The humblest creature finds another life, 
To dwell on new found planetary fields, 
As suited to the purpose of the law 
That wields a power untold by human words. 

"Your poor mortal mind ne'er can know the sense 
Of that which firmly holds you in its grasp ; 
Your cravings lead you far beyond yourself, 
Entity, continuity of thought; 
Memories of your kindred ties on earth ; 
Will they exist, beyond, in life to come? 
Will man caress the idols of his heart 
With all the fervor of his earth-born love <? 
Go, find the answer in your human mind. 
On earth a few short years make dim the past. 



18 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

Will eternity have no greater bonds ? 
The universe is one gigantic power, 
Omnipresent law that was never born ; 
It had no beginning and has no end ; 
Nothing is, or was, but what has ever been ; 
In and through all that ever will exist, 
A one grand whole made up of all its parts, 
Ever throbbing with continuous life. 

SPIRIT COMMUNION. 

''Life in the spirit world is like a dream. 
Souls greet souls and in purest thought commune. 
The chaff of earthly intercourse forgot. 
Their language, deep impressions sending forth 
Vibratory thoughts, unutterable, 
Proclaiming as with tongues their desires, 
Through the spacious realms of the Infinite. 
Mighty spirits move on their way alone. 
Strong in themselves they need no other aid ; 
Their earth born entity remains intact. 
The poor in spirit, crippled from their birth. 
Find their affinities and live as one. 
Composite souls with but one mutual thought, 
Progressing with their kind to higher spheres. 
Some souls, bej^ond, move by gradual steps. 
Through the tangled memories of the past. 
Chain gangs of brilliant lights on earth creep on- 
Their chains, but recollections linked of crimes 
Committed through their dire perversity ; 
Sin dyed mortals, the monarch, sage or clown 
Must each be purged through ethereal hell. 
The highest gifts above, are earned below. 
Thoughtful, earthly beings oft' feel this truth. 
It is a sense self-sacrifice creates. 
Thought exists through space ; thought everywhere, 
Faint echoes of your former life may come 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 19 

Like a ripple stirred by some earth-born thought, 
From terrestrial kindred lingering here. 

MAN^S INTOLERANCE TO MAN. 

Up from earth a few centuries ago, 

There came from souls whose mortal lives were rent 

From their clay-bound temples by fire and scourge, 

Prayers that pulsated through the realms above. 

Along the course where oft' my spirit roamed. 

The stars seemed darkened by a cloud of mist, 

A vast spectral host came hovering on, 

Down o 'er your sphere to greet the souls released. 

Tiny meteors, soulful eager thoughts. 

Vibrating waves shot forth electric sparks. 

As fire flies flit across your fields at dusk. 

Forced out of earth life, searching here and there. 

Through ethereal space for kindred souls, 

To tell them how for truth they had been slain. 

Strong affinities answering the call 
Of martyred souls unloosed by creed for faith. 
They listen to these spirits' tale of woe. 
And lift them to a higher sense of thought ; 
For doubt, no longer, haunts the soul unbound, 
When it communes with its affinities. 
Convictions that no logic need explain. 
Come to their consciousness as truth supreme. 

I am from you but a degree removed, 
Among the spheres that open farther out 
The scroll from which I scan the worlds beyond. 
Still more mysterious, yet more sublime. 
Veiled b}^ an Infinite Intelligence, 
A systematic, universal law. 

My intercourse with souls above my own, 
Wliisper of the Unseen Celestial Power ; 



20 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

In spirit form it rules upon a throne 
As boundless as the circles of the spheres. 

Human knowledge of energy and life, 

Its power to combine and bring to light, 

To harness nature 's might to its desires. 

Unearthed from the mammoth store-house of laws, 

Is but a tremor to the mighty whole ; 

A breath from out the depths of the unknown, 

Compared to the wondrous power you might wield. 

To revolutionize your faith on earth, 

And lift your kind up to an earthly bliss. 

Your gro^vth in soul life cannot thus advance. 

Held back by creeds and dogmas of your brain ; 

Fashioned to suit your transient power on earth. 

That all must bow to some revealed idea. 

Revealed to man's perverted, mortal brain. 

That they have found the only path to heaven. 

Leading by faith through tortuous paths of blood ; 

Dissenters engulfed in life's mysteries; 

Reformers seeking whom they may devour ; 

Exchanging love and gospel truths for hate, 

Subservient to personal caprice, 

Ignoring the pure word of the Divine, 

The meek and perfect man, the Son of God, 

The master mind of human love on earth. 

Whose precepts taught that love should be our creed. 

That you might reach up to that altitude 

Above the narrow ruts in which you live. 

And grasp the fulness of your destiny. 

Beyond the slavery of your earth-born thought. 

These lips would fain have kept some truths aside, 
But now by thoughts that rankle in this breast, 
I speak of man's intolerance to man. 
Enlightened nations blush not at their shame. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 21 

Pagans are as angels compared with these. 
Dire memories come rushing through this brain, 
From out those centuries of which I speak, 
When clashing dogmas buried deep their fangs, 
And rent the temples of immortal souls 
Whose single crime was their own fervent faith, 
In parables whose sense confused their minds. 
And made them martyrs to a simple word. 
Wars for supremacy of earthly power, 
To gain material boundaries on earth, 
Ne'er caused the tumult through my spirit zone, 
Like that of souls released for heresy, 
'Gainst some censorious, dogmatic creed. 

Heed now the words which I to you proclaim : 

While lingering midway 'twixt heaven and earth. 

These tender lips of youth vnll tell the tale. 

Its full import he cannot comprehend. 

But age and manhood can them well digest. 

'T was in those years of that centurial time, 

A cry from earth came piercing thro' my zone. 

One flesh bound fanatic had burned it loose, 

Not as a sacrifice of one beloved. 

But mortal hate grown deep vnthin the flesh. 

'Gainst this dissenter, for his unbelief, 

A staunch believer in his commonsense. 

On tenets that appealed to him as truth. 

Dire carnage on your sphere ceased for a time 
When this stray soul came wand 'ring here alone. 
And flitting onward in its upward course. 
It hovered near my transient home awhile, 
In spirit accents thus aloud it cried : 
'^ Oh Jesus, Son of the Eternal God, 
O God, Eternal, and Thy Son, divine. 
If this is sacrilege come to my aid, 



22 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

And teach my honest soul words of truth. 
'Mid flames my agony has been intense, 
Earth's temple now has set my spirit free. 
Lead, me kind spirits, to that throne of love, 
My aching soul yearns for its just reward." 
And spirits came and led this soul awaj^. 
Up through a misty light to other worlds. 
I hear it now, e 'en with these mortal ears : 
"Oh God, Eternal, and Thy Son, divine. 
Lead me, kind spirits, to the throne of love." 
That cry of faith still calling for the way, 
This youthful form, it trembles at the thought. 

The essence of the trinity is one. 

Ineffable the mystery of three, 

For mortal man to comprehend the word: 

God the Father, the Son and Holy Ghost. 

Your sun, your moon, your stars give forth their light ; 

They are distinct, yet centered into one 

That gives the glory to the whole combined. 

This century of time made angels weep. 
Out from the highest zones in heaven's vault. 
Strong souls assembled and in earnest prayer. 
Sent forth entreaties to the Power Supreme, 
To penetrate the mortal hearts of man. 
Though fallen, to cast on them a pitying touch. 
Within the law that governs all things well ; 
To make them cease their ravages on earth. 
And grow into that element of faith, 
Taught by the Son of the Eternal God. 
The power of prayer from tliis vast spirit-fold 
Will bring to earth an answer that I feel. 
And prophesy that mortal peace will come. 
Slowly through the centuries yet unborn. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 23 

As your probation draws unto its end, 
Through gradual transformations bringing forth, 
A sphere of peace as pure as any world. 
When you've subdued your heritage of sin. 
It lies with you to teach the one true faith, 
Consistent with the One pure mind, divine, 
Who feels no malice to a breathing soul ; 
That blazed the way for mortals' erring feet. 
Along the tangled pathway of your life, 
Out into the broad ever growing light 
That shines by love into a perfect faith. 
Which leaves no doubt of your divinity. 

Here in the body must the soul mature. 
Through intellect to reach the spirit power ; 
An earthly consciousness of future life. 
Transcendental virtue that will attain 
The higher glory for an earth born soul. 
When life 's vaporous breath has left the clay, 
To join a second life in concrete form. 
Beyond its desultory, drear abode. 
Fools live, fools die, and they struggle through 
Existence, fastened to their crippled brains. 
Without a glimmer of what lies beyond 
Their poor, weak senses, which must here expire ; 
To live, perhaps, again, if they unite 
With other kindred souls like to their own. 
Unconscious each of what they were on earth, 
Forgetfulness a part of their reward. 
Too feeble to ascend up to their kind. 

Man's wondrous brain power is oft deranged. 
Human fancies that no existence have. 
Through mental processes seem like the truth. 
Forsooth, your sanity is quite insane. 
It is no paradox ; thoughts do combine 



24 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

Until your normal senses have gone mad- 
Wise men are fools, and fools are over wise, 
Each with a self-made creed befog the brain 
Of mortals whose capacity is small ; 
Too small for logic or even common sense. 
Men's faculties cannot conceive the power 
Outside the narrow zone in which they live. 
Above the sordid instincts of their race. 
Where areas broaden out the human mind. 
That it may grasp with sanity the truth ; 
Through fields whose vastness seems to have no end. 
Unless they conquer their inheritance, 
That stubbornness which manhood now reveals 
For as a truth I now appear to you 
In the imagery of both heaven and earth. 
If you are dreamers, now behold with faith. 
Tax not my wandering words with subtle doubt. 
Doubt acts like acid on the healthy mind ; 

'Twill sour the sweetest instincts of the heart ; 

Contemptuous criticisms of the ways and means 

To build up mortal hopes to righteousness ; 

It is not all to know what to believe. 

But firmly to believe when peace is found. 

Not transitory, but abiding peace. 

Intellects like yours follow not the crowd. 

But live and die within their mortal selves. 

Seeking all things, but holding fast to none. 

Belief or disbelief in what's called truth, 

Bothers not the poor idiotic soul. 

Wrapped in flesh, blood and bone, a breathing man, 

Without the vital energies of life 

To lift the mind to reason on a thought. 

SKEPTICISM OF MANHOOD REBUKED. 

"I have the power to grasp life's grand expanse, 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 25 | 

The future destiny of the living soul. ] 

Yet my mind does wander against my will, ] 

Into suggested channels not my own. 1 

Harassed by thoughts I cannot put aside. 1 

Suspended 'twixt my spirit's life and this, 

I linger through some compelling power — 

Tliis, my former birthplace, where once I lived. ■ 

Your earth seems beautiful to spirit eyes, 

I long to roam within this youthful form. 

And live again a mortal life anew | 

Equipped with all the knowledge I possess. 

To lead earth's mortals to a higher life, 

And fit my soul to fly out far beyond 

From where I roam witliin a confined space, j 

Into a sphere more beautiful than earth. \ 

I strangely feel that strong contending power \ 

Seeking to wrest the magic of my will j 

And leave me helpless to complete my task. j 

My mission here on earth must be fulfilled, ', 

Ere earthly instincts lead my words astray. 

I'm losing fast the power to tell my tale, i 

Resistless seems the might that Manhood wields, " 

His strength of thought weakens my spirit's might; 

While in the vigor of his mortal frame, i 

He fills my soul with some strange mortal fear, ; 

A barrier to my progress here below. ^ 

I must assert my strength while there is time, 1 

And lead him out up by some mystic spell 

From darkness dense, back to the light again. 

'Tis no miracle I am to perform. 

It's the sequence of a natural law. { 

Removing obstacles along my way \ 

To test the earth power of sceptic minds, I 

That they may see through senses now unknown. j 

Lest I become as once I was on earth, 

Again a devil to my fellow man. 



26 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

I have seemed far too mortal for your eyes, 
For Manhood's lip has curled in bold contempt. 
Old Man, your comrade now must bend his knee 
• In supplication to my spirit power, 
Controlled to be by your sincere desire. 
On him depends the success of your prayer, 
Yet must you suffer for awhile with him 
The scene forgotten, then your trinity. 
Youth, Manhood and Old Age will join to seek 
The sequel of this romance of the soul. 
Enveloped in this mist of dying light, 
That swiftly fades to gloom and not one ray 
Will shed a halo o'er your resting place. 
Into your former gloom you now are cast. 
To search your inmost souls with blinded eyes. 
That you may have the sense to see aright, 
And trust my revelations of the truth. 

' ' Ah, Manhood, now I test my might again. 
Back to the darkness, grovel in the clay ! 
Old Age, he weeps ; and Manhood cries for light. 
I hear you through the glooin for I am here. 
Beyond your mortal vision, still so close, 
I trace the snapping twigs beneath your feet. 
As you move restlessly among the trees. 
Yes, see you with my mystic, spirit eyes. 
I glory in this power as when on earth 
To make men bow to my authority. 
I 'm born again, a tyrant to oppress ; 
Oppression now is that Manhood may repent — 
A spirit's tyranny of righteousness. 
For I am held in balance by a law 
That keeps me from all the foibles of earth. 
My spirit life holds me in its control. 
Lifts more toward heaven than to sinful earth. 
Although half mortal, you alone must yield, 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 27 

Yet your contempt drew hard upon my soul. 

I, through my spirit life most fully know 

That I must suffer for this strenuous act, 

And linger longer near this earthly sphere, 

Within the confines of my probation. 

The fault of Age, was confidence in you ; 

He had full faith and bowed unto my will ; 

His thoughts were woven through and into mine. 

Your ties to earth and vigor made you weak 

In faith for the tilings which I would reveal. 

I'm here to show you all that you would know. 

Your strength of manhood to defeat my power. 

Could only check my spirit's work on earth, 

And leave Old Age with an unanswered prayer. 

Why should he suffer through your lack of faith. 

And lose all future hope he had in you 

To follow faithfully unto the end? 

You are too strong to be subdued by fear. 

Your mental sufferings I now behold. 

My soul rejoiceth with half demon sense. 

Yet I would have your generous soul with mine. 

Your conscious mind should not my zeal ignore, 

For there are visions yet untold to view. 

And joy beyond, you cannot realize 

Unless with faith you follow to the end. 

Your lack of faithfulness now makes me will 

That you must pass through darkness to the light. 

Then into darkness back to light again. 

And soon this conquest will be made complete ; 

Your soul now hangs within this darkened fold. 

Shut out from light, famishing for truth. 

I came not here in answer to your prayer ; 

Yet Age through his indulgence made a 'pact 

In his duality of youth and age 

With you proud Manhood to become a part 

And join him as a trinity of souls, 



28 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

To seek the truth, and solve life 's mystery. 
If this link be broken, all is undone. 

"Truth gives undying faithfulness to facts, 
Revealed unto our eyes, that reason may 
Accept and follow with sincerity. 
It is so old as when heaven 's light first pierced 
The utter darkness of the universe. 
Spontaneous by birth — no infancy, 
Like error planted to grow by acts 
That distort through mirrors of human thought, 
Its verity into wild conjecture. 

To which man clings with earth born stubbornness : 
With minds unbalanced, like unto your own. 
Behold my power to reveal and utter truths, 
A demi-mortal called to give you light. 
The truth of which you must not now reject. 
Your power of earthly thought must be subdued, 
Renew your faltering faith and follow on. 
The ideal you seek lives not on earth, 
Your purity of mind craves for a kind 
Unknown to man, which only heaven can give. 
The instincts of the brute were born in man, 
When flesh unites, the product must be gross. 
The composition has become debased. 
Unless you find an ideal like yourself. 
One seeking such unearthly love below, 
The combination then would be complete. 
As angels thus you would beget your kind. 
Your progeny would mark a higher life. 
If such on earth you've found. You are a fool 
To listen further to my words of truth. 
But still you are in doubt ; your dire unrest. 
With all your vaunted pride is but the test 
That you are seeking still that unknown bliss. 
Of love complete, which only angels know. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 29 ^ 

\ 

Viciousness exists and virtue is a fact, \ 

They each reflect their lives upon your race, 

Through wages they have earned in the employ. j 

E 'en now I feel a conflict with my soul, ; 

My thoughts encompassed by a dual strength. \ 

It saps from earth and heaven my wonted power, \ 

I am the barrier that stands between ; 
The consunmiation of your soul's desire, 

A love begotten in another sphere ' 

E'er you were here translated to the flesh, J 

To wear the earthly garb of sensual clay. ! 

Your long forgotten past has left a void, | 

Unanswered longing gives your soul unrest, | 

A vague remembrance of your former self. | 

Within the precincts of another world ^ 

Reflecting back a life of purest bliss, ] 

Will you yield, proud mortal, if to your ear, | 
There come, from lips of this, your youthful guide, . | 

Words from your own ideal love brought to earth, ; 

In tones so sweet as youthful lips can tell ? 'i 

Fain would I yield this temple for a soul i 

To utter through your earth's prosaic speech, | 

Its ecstacies of joy to greet you here; J 

To speak to you in love's endearing tones, | 

For she has whispered of your former self. i 

She comes from Venus, fairest of worlds, j 

Where only the elect can enter in. ] 

Perhaps it is not well to grant this boon, - 

To prostitute this medium of youth • 

To your affinity ; to speak those words j 

Which might usurp my power and cast me out, j 

For I'm within the circuit of your thought, ] 

Which old age controls through his answered prayer, i 

For things more spiritual than desire. I 



30 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

You are enmeshed in manhood's feverish flesh, 
While age has passed the limit of your kind 
Where passion lives ; Ms body now half dead, 
Presses his soul from out its feeble clay. 
Into an atmosphere of purer thought. 

I have the power to take you to her home, 
A world akin to earth, without its sin, 
Where life exalts the soul to purest love. 
She hovers now within my realm of power. 
The mastery of which she seeks from me. 
Pleading to greet you with her words of love, 
Through this medium of my spirit power. 
E'en now I grant her wish, soon I'll away. 
But for awhile, then to return again. 
To find your will subservient to mine, 
For she has vowed to all that I require. 
With blinded eyes she soon will speak to you ; 
Blind, lest she view you in your wretchedness. 
Your thoughts can flow up to her all the while. 
For comfort's sake if it is your desire. 
This guardian angel watches over you. 
Imparting to your earth life all its grace. 
Answering your prayer for ideal love. 
Your cravings came from one who longs to meet 
Your soul released from out its casket here. 
To lead you back to her celestial home. 

Vaguely you feel her presence near you now. 
It is no phantasy of which I speak. 
She lives in concrete form when e'er she wills. 
Soon she'll enter the temple of your guide. 
Then let your faith surmount your stubbornness. 
Yield, mortal man, lest I do break the bond, 
And cast thee from thy trinity of souls. 
Leaving thee to wander where 'er thou wilt 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 31 

Among the ordinary chings of earth ; 
The incoherent miitterings of love, 
Where senses are all swallowed by the flesh. 
I leave thee here and soar out into space. 

Enter the temple built for mortal man, 
And speak fair spirit of thy Venus world ; 
This tongue of youth most fitted for thy words, 
Will sound the sweeter moved by tender love, 
When thou art done I'll lead him up to thee. 
I will not linger, lest my tainted thoughts, 
Not divorced from all their mortal sense. 
Might leave me powerless to complete my task. 
By listening to the romance of thy soul. 
Thy sweet, bewitching words might tempt me on. 
To battle at the gates of Venus land 
For that peculiar sense within thy zone, 
Which to thy wanderer thou would 'st recall. 
Who seeks an ideal unborn to earth. 
Farewell, thou bold intruder for awhile. 

SPIRIT FROM VENUS GREETS MANHOOD. 

Eros, my fair Eros, hear'st thou me? 
Thy nearness brings sweet rest unto my soul. 
Come, Eros, come, in fulness of pure thought. 
Though bound in clay until thy mortal death. 
Send one pulsation of thy former love 
That thou may'st link thy soul unto my own. 
Revive thy memory and live again, 
As we once lived ere thou wert born to earth, 
A bitter world of sin far from thine own. 
Where souls from earth oft seek to enter in, 
Or intercept some wanderer like thyself. 
To get a sense of thought beyond their own. 

I would inspire thy cravings here with hope, 
For that which lies beyond awaiting thee, 



32 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

When thy frail body, biiilded here with clay, 
Drops like a mantle from thy precious soul ; 
Thy purity of heart has not succumbed. 
But lives aloof from common love on earth, 
A spark inherent waiting to blaze forth. 
Unbound and free from out its prison cell. 
Our love's immortal and can never die. 
We know no earth born blush of shame ; 
Our cheeks, they glow from no unholy thought. 
Emotions burn within our Venus world. 
Consuming neither body nor the soul. 

But for a moment in life's endless time, 

I linger here upon the brink of earth ; 

My words will call thee to thyself again, 

I '11 hold thee so fast till there is no light. 

No sun, no moon, no stars; 'till time doth cease. 

To kindle in thy heart thy former love. 

Long years I've wandered through ethereal zones, 

My longing soul attuned to catch some thought 

From out of thy dim memory of her 

Who once was part of thy own destiny. 

Ere thou wert lost within a mold of flesh, 

Dropped from some earthly womb into this sphere. 

By some dire accident thou hast found 

A planet cursed by its inherent sin. 

Where in thy drear existence thou did'st crave 

An ideal, whose fair picture on thy heart 

Has left an impress of love's purity. 

Its loveliness of soul life haunts thee still, 

And thou hast sought upon this planet, earth. 

Its semblance which thou oft' hast fondly clasped, 

To find within thy breast a painful void. 

Still prone to linger, trying to unfold 

From out the human mind those virtues rare 

Which answers to the measure of thy love. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 33 \ 

1 

Ere thy incarnation left me alone, 1 

When thy celestial spirit roamed with mine, ', 

Thou wert m}^ soul-life and I wast thine. \ 

With thy departure my first sorrow came ; i 

I searched through all the spheres, no answer found, j 

To the vibrations of my fervent prayers. 

Thy birth to earth dulled all thy spirit tho't 

Of thy existing self beyond this life \ 

Which haunts thee in thy search for love like mine. \ 

Now, I come to thee in thy direst need. 

Through the strong spirit in thy youthful guide. 

I felt thy nearness, yet beyond my reach j 

To touch that chord which would our souls unite j 

In full sympathy of celestial love. 

For death alone can make thy love complete. 2 

Thou must depart from earth and soar to me, ; 

And find thyself upon thy couch of leaves. ^ 

Yet to thy mind I 've made my presence known, ; 

Our strength combined made the proud spirit yield, i 

But for a time, and then I must away ; 

He is hovering near us all the while I 

Awaiting my return out into space. ^ 

I 've lost my spirit vision, and your face 

Is covered by dark shadows, as of night, 

A filmy curtain like to twilight hour, ' 

Is interposed between thy eyes and mine. , 

Soon in the zenith thou canst view the light I 
Of Venus glistening brightly o'er our heads. 

Then gaze with me up to that realm of joy, i 

We each shall view the glory of the night ] 

Though far away, that world it is our home, i 

Thy morning and thy evening star on earth, ] 

Our paradise of bliss on thy return. I 

Think nought of else but thine own loved one there, j 
Tangible, in all the fulness of youth ; 



34 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

Eternal youth, the ideal of thy soul. 
Whisper the name of Eros in thy prayer, 
Then I will clasp thy soul unto my breast, 
In that voluptuous joy of spirit thought. 
And wander with thee to our Venus land. 
As we once wandered ere our parting came. 
Through luxuriant verdant valleys roam. 
Amid the wealth of nature in our sphere, 

'er its oceans, rivers and mountain heights, 
Thou hast roamed with me in thy spirit form, 
High in the air which hugs our Venus world. 
To view the canopy of star lit skies. 

Our trance-like bodies in our world below. 
Vacant temples from which our souls have flown 
Awaiting our return to bodied form. 
To life again, and with our kind commune 
In vestal pleasures and our pleasing toil. 

1 thought thou wert eternally my own. 
Unbroken was our harmony of thought, 
Through which we circled in our wanderings. 
Save when we sought a lost soul like thine own. 
Which longed to solve the mystery of earth. 
Thou oft' didst gaze out on this distant sphere, 
I feared to let thee wander from my side. 

Lest I might lose thee through some vagrant thought. 
Whose powerful subtlety coming from earth. 
Might absorb thee, and leave thee here ensnared, 
Engulfed within this zone of mortal woe. 
I chided thee, remonstrated in vain. 
Still cling to thee and long to make thee clean. 
For thou art soiled, yet I would cleanse thy soul, 
With thoughts more potent than thy earthly love. 
As we once breathed our breath 'mid perfumes rare, 
Down through the trembling ecstacies of joy, 
Where we embraced and lost ourselves in bliss. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 35 ■ 

This soul-breatli of thy long forgotten past i 

May fan thy memory into a spark 1 

To flitter through the vista of thy mind, \ 

So thou canst follow and perhaps revive, ] 

Some vivid scene amid those bygone times i 
When thy whole soul was closely linked with mine. 

I'll lead thee to thyself for there thou art ; 

Reclining on a couch of fragrant leaves, ; 

For when thy soul forsook its casket there, 1 

We laid thee gently 'neath the spreading boughs, l 

Whose broad, strong leaves in summer fanned thy brow, ' 
In winter draped their whiteness o'er thy bier. 

Within our garden where we once did rove, ■ 

Pure and incorruptible there thou art ; j 

Like to my love, thy form will ne 'er grow cold, \ 

For the elect to Venus know no death, j 

Save this silence unmoved by spirit power. j 

To this fair sphere we came from other worlds, ; 

Thou from some star unknown to me in space ; ] 

I from a realm of which I often dream; ! 

We met in early summer of our lives, I 

When love 's spontaneous through nature 's law ' 

That governs all the souls within our sphere, ! 

Each finds a soul mate waiting for it there, j 

Endowed with dual life in form and thought. 

Inanimate thou art till thy return, j 

For over there among the trembling stars, i 

Within fair Venus, there thy temple lies. 

Through all the seasons as they come and go. ] 

So palpable, yet still to my caress. I 

The elements of life warm thy fair form. 

But without thought to give me love's return, j 

And e'er my spirit fled, lo, I am there, j 

To deck thy brow with garlands from the woods, : 



36 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

And by thy side to lay my body down ; 
Placing my head upon thy moving breast, 
That ever breathes in unison with mine ; 
Folding thy pliant arms around my neck, 
And thee in mine to dream of former bliss, 
Awaking but to find thy thoughtless form. 
Serene and soulless, an image of my love. 
And then I fly from out myself once more, 
I leave my own and go in search of thee. 
From out my body leaps my misty self. 
Into eternal space to find my life. 
Thy soul, to bring thee to thyself again. 

Gaze now upon this vision of thyself. 

Entwined with mine in motionless embrace. 

Speechless, lifeless, without one spark of love. 

For love's departed and wanders 'mid the stars 

To find that breath to animate anew. 

Thy sleeping form, the temple of thy soul. 

So fair and clothed in most beauteous grace. 

Thou art my idol, canst thou still resist 

To send me greetings from thy earthly state ? 

Canst thou, fair Eros, let her spirit flee. 

Without more throbbing from thy earth bound thought. 

Thy trinity of souls excludes my own, 

So now it seems or thou wouldst break the bond, 

And force the tyrant from thy youthful guide. 

Back to his spirit home among the stars. 

Old age entranced should use his fervent prayer 

To call for truth from some less callous soul. 

The circuit's broke, no tell tale thoughts ascend 

To him who lately left this youthful form. 

He waits impatient to resume his task. 

Thou art too human to cope with his power, 

Through death alone canst thou defy his might. 

Yet thou wouldst stain thy very soul with blood, 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 37 

And it would be a base ingratitude, 

Through him alone, I've found my long, lost love; 

Remain awhile, for life on earth is short. 

Thou drawest hard upon my soul to stay. 

To lead thee by my spirit love through life, 

I cannot come unless in human form. 

Brought into mortal life as thou wast brought. 

We came not from earth to our Venus zone. 

And never felt the curse of mortal sin. 

That makes the spirit wrestle with the flesh. 

I go, ere I absorb some earthly taint. 

Emotions which no mortal can control 

For thy own dear soul life, I must away. 

Thy former tenant calls for my release ; 

He'll intercede with thee when I am gone. 

Yield to his wishes, he no harm can do. I 

Whisper the name of Eros in thy prayer. 

Thy earnest thought will bring me back to thee. 

I'll purge my soul from this contact with earth, 

And be thy guardian angel to the end. 

I'll go to keep my vigil near thy couch. 

Again to breathe my soul into myself. 

And lovingly unclasp my form from thine. 

Folding thy hands once more across thy breast ; 

Smoothing thy wind tossed locks back from thy brow ; 

Then with parting caress I will away. 

To pluck the rarest flowers to deck thy shrine, 

And wait thy resurrection to new thought. 

From thy now mortal transitory state, 

Into the dormant temple of thy soul. 

FORMER SPIRIT AGAIN ADDRESSES MANHOOD. 

Manhood, I'm here to feel my power enhanced. 
Come, now, proud mortal and accept the light. 
Your Venus love has it your scorn subdued? 



38 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

Bow in obedience to this my prayer, 

Though once a devil I now speak the truth. 

Old age bends to my will and seeks your aid ; 

My utterances have been too profuse 

With promises for one such mortal man. 

The ideal of your soul lives over there ; 

Come, let me lead you to her home of love. 

Forbid that I should play full demon's part. 

But now my dual nature does prevent. 

By virtue of my power the demon I denounce. 

And goodness asks you kindly to believe. 

For there is glory waiting you above. 

I am content, for now I see the light, 

Around you glow, the victory I have won. 

You yield, the transformation is complete ; 

I've touched the magic chord within your soul. 

For even stubborn hearts, kindness subdues. 

Built on foundations of earthly desire. 

See, age now clasps you firmly to his heart, 

E 'en through this youthful frame a tremor creeps ; 

Close now your eyes, lest blinded by the light. 

Which soon will rush down through the darkened way. 

Might shock the nerves that give you mortal sight. 

Gaze through half closed lids, let it softly pass 

That gently you be lifted back again 

Into the light where we were led astray. 

That we again our journey may pursue. 

Until we reach my home among the stars. 

I '11 tell you tales of things beyond belief. 

Of stars along the pathway of my flight. 

Where weary souls may rest for centuries. 

Or stop to answer some lost spirit's call. 

The longings of thy soul shall be fulfilled. 

THE SPIRIT CONTINUES. 

"Vain mortal mites of thin breath cased in clav, 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 39 

Let no false random thoughts dispute my power 

To lead you to a gate that opens wide 

For souls who seek with true sincerity. 

It lies with you to pass through and behold, 

What now my spirit power would fain describe 

Now, once again I have united faith. 

Without restraint I'll lead you further on 

Into the mysteries beyond the vail. 

Hark to my words, and hear what I proclaim, 

A simple duty to perform you have 

To gain the bliss I have for you in store. 

The cosmography of your tiny sphere 

Shows but a step into eternity. 

The far off stars beyond, but beacon lights 

Out on the shores of Neptune 's frigid sphere. 

Where oceans of space in deep darkness roll. 

It is there that pent up wrath of nature 

Holds full sway, surging through ethereal gloom. 

The hoarse, deep howl of elements at war 

Pushing their ponderous weight of force along. 

Through the deep channels of the universe. 

There souls are cast to stem this awful tide. 

Souls clothed or naked as it fits their crimes 

To their human kind or to creatures dumb. 

And, slowly moving on they reach their rest. 

Purified and cleansed of their mortal sin. 

Mid this dense gloom through long periods of years 

Meteorous fire balls are swiftly hurled. 

Their lurid glare lighting the ghostly throng. 

Along the whirlwind's path where souls are drawn. 

On, ever on, until the sun of all 

Moves o'er the chasm of deep, black night once more. 

Penetrating this tumultuous zone; 

Lifting to other spheres earth's punished souls. 

From out their purgatorial abode. 



40 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

Well might poor mortals fear, for this is hell. 

"Vain seeker of the truth is mortal man; 
He buildeth on desire, creates his gods, 
Worshipping at his earthly man-built shrine. 
He buildeth well, if his heart but conquers 
Dire cupidity which is there inborn ; 
Deep rooted greed with ignorance combined. 
If at his altar he can kill these germs. 
And lift the veil that shut life's glories out. 
The curse to all mankind born in the shade. 

' ' Man in his dual life can sing and pray. 
And feel within himself all that he seems. 
Honest for the time ; guileless as a child ; 
His words the vaporings of a drunken soul. 
Drunk with a sensuous joy all his own. 
Filled with glory for what he most desires, 
A transient dream of bliss, while still asleep ; 
Awaking treads his way along the earth ; 
His other self half conscious of deceit, 
Hangs to the devil 's tail with pious eyes. 
And through life goes with virtue clothed and sin. 
To analyze the synthesis of man. 
All the sensations of his earth-born mind 
Require a brain beyond all earthly power. 

' ' All things will seem as now until that hour. 
When from your eyes will fall the heavy mist 
Through which you faintly feel the power supreme. 
Though centuries have passed since I left earth, 
I am a child compared to other souls. 
Who in their wanderings tell me their tales 
Of worlds and life beyond where I now roam. 
Some who have passed through ethereal hell. 
And others who have found virtue's reward, 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL 41 

Realizing naught but a spirit's joy. 

*'In the deep blackness of eternal night 
The universe is ever moving on ; 
Its stars and planets the united whole 
Roll on while unseen systems in their course, 
Above, below, follow 'neath star lit skies. 
Of other floating worlds beyond their own. 
Journeying for ages but to revolve 
Again, around, through new ethereal ways 
To meet in turn the reigning sun of all. 
That blazes through its own eccentric path. 
Legends of its annihilating power. 
Great resurrections from ethereal hell 
Of souls damned to suif er for mortal crimes. 
Oft' whispered tales of worlds broke loose to roam. 
Shattered in fragments, devoured by its fire ; 
Or left to wander in circuitous flight 
Until some law upholds them in their course. 
To grow into some planet life once more. 
Rumors like these live with us as the truth. 
Faculties of soul life you know naught of. 
The physical precludes the spirit thought. 
Your intellect made dull by flesh and blood 
Forbids sensations which I might reveal. 

''There reigns a melancholy on your earth. 
Engendered by man's foul abuse of power. 
Senses perverted, grovelling in the clay. 
The temple of your own immortal soul. 
I dwelt within this temple four score years. 
Vain-glorious wealth and pride gave me power 
To bend beneath a yoke my fellow man. 
My hardened heart through pride and stubborn will 
Now finds its other soul life wandering here. 
Roaming within my orbit with a sense 



42 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

That time alone can help me on my way 
Beyond the curse that haunts me from my birth. 

All souls from earth must pass along my course, 

To soar above or linger for a time 

Within the limits of their probation, 

According to their earthly righteousness. 

I've met with kings who drenched earth's soil in blood 

And gilded Christians without charity. 

Who leaned on their weak, human staff of pride, 

Whose love and prayers were solemn mockeries. 

The humblest mortal's soul will feel no caste. 

Interfused affinities are as one. 

We are each ourselves plus something more. 

Minus the flesh for ages yet to come. 

Till naked thought wears material form 

To dwell within some growing planet life. 

The nucleus of a power evolving on, 

In embryo of beings born again. 

We see them, feel them, know that they exist. 

''And I have found above, my transient home, 
A home among the stars while I await 
The calling of my soul to its reward, 
Perhaps there to breathe a celestial life ; 
Of this, until that time, I know naught of. 
Quite unlike your mortals, in this, my zone, 
The spirit acts without a human mind. 
Within this casket of your former self. 
My mind receives the fulness of its thought. 
Which I will feel when I am clothed again. 

''Your keen philosophy while in the gloom 
Resting, awaiting answer to your prayer 
Found in my soul a true affinity. 
Your mind gave forth a human thoughtfulness. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 43 

The process of such thought follows no path 

That leads you out into the open light. 

Desire is everlasting while you live. 

The instinct of the brute is but desire, 

Like man's own human inborn sense of prayer. 

Man trains the brute and man can train himself, 

So brute and man may live a higher life. 



"Science dwells upon material fact. ) 

Your spirit logic feeds upon desire i 

For things unseen beyond your mortal eyes. j 

The longing of the hungry is for bread. ^ 

While there is bread in plenty, still you starve. | 

The staff of life your stubborn hearts reject. | 

Pangs of regret for what I might have been i 

Send silent waves of anguish through my soul. | 

' ' Your Youth, the instrument through which I speak, 

Is but a dreamy vision of yourself, I 

Under the control of my spirit power i 

To lead you to the goal ; you would obtain J 

The power that Manhood wields; the end will tell i 

You still belong to earth's weak, crumbling clay i 

No mortal yet has solved what you now seek, ' 

Unrelenting, universal law prevents. "j 

Yet, if you still persist, then follow me, ; 

For if you can obey what I proclaim, i 

Of the vast myriads of mortals born, i 

You then of all will be the first, save One ] 

To wander back to flesh and earth again, ' 
To tell the tale of life's infinitude. 

And teach the world how you the victory won. j 
To kindle in men's hearts the power of love, 

That they may make the earth a paradise. ! 
Regenerated by your wondrous power. 

Your bold, insistent cravings brought me here • 



44 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

To take you to my liome among the stars ; 
And if you go, I surely must return 
. Reincarnated to my earth-born self. 

Then we will spread the truth and lift the load 
That hangs by man's unwisdom to his race. 

DESCRIBES THE PLANETS OF HIS HOME JUNO. 

' ' Out in the darkness of the depths beyond, 
Far from glimmerings of suns, moons and stars, 
God's universe in one eternal night. 
Lies wrapped in His glorious omnipresence. 
Here from your terrestrial sphere 3^ou view 
Fair Venus, yonder, trembling in the west ; 
On to earth's ruddy brother's Martian fields, 
The illusive planet to earthly eyes. 
Wlien you depart with me from earth awhile, 
We'll penetrate old Luna in our flight. 
Mercury, amid its fierce, blazing light. 
We'll view their furrowed plains in rigid folds, 
Where nature heaved up mounds with gapping holes. 
That sent forth sulphurous flames of fire. 
And forced out spirit life to other spheres. 
Through all the constellated groups of stars. 
Our souls will gather wisdom as we roam. ' 

Spirit to spirit bound we will not stray, 
But move as one 'till we reach earth again. 

' ' Within your eyes I here can feel that power. 
The disembodied unity of thought 
That flows and leads your buoyant soul to mine. 
Into the interlucent realms of space. 
Where Sirius burns but as a leading light. 
Blazing with its own fire our pathway on. 
Interstellar wanderers from your earth 
Through space and unthinkable endlessness. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 45 

*'Not yet cleansed from all the foibles of flesh, 
Test what I ask, perhaps my thoughts contain 
More truth than my faltering words express. 
After obedience to my demands 
We will pierce your ethereal crust 
That holds the flesh by terrestrial law 
And soar up to my home in sea of space. 
Still further on from your earth's source of light 
That calls the seasons as they come and go. 
Where nature throbs in its existing way, 
Peculiar to its own environments. 
Your aerial journey will be quickly sped. 
Up to the haven where our spirits rest, 
'Twixt Mars and Jupiter where my Juno lies, 
In embryo evolving to a world. 
From protoplastic seed and virgin soil. 
There dropped to rest thousands of years ago. 
For there is verdure on its lowlands now; 
And ferny shrubs hang low o'er stagnant pools. 
Where green mold scums up to the mossy banks. 
On all the hillsides grow fair flowering vines. 
Waiting spirit breath to draw their perfume. 
To live and breathe again in this new world. 
'Twas there my spirit fled cut loose from clay. 
Drawn by a kindred soul that led me on. 
Outside earth's orbit to this infant sphere. 
An atom held and swathed for future life, 
A tiny outcast dropped to rest awhile. 
Offspring of some far off demolished world. 

' ' The islands in my zone are miles apart. 
Many, many miles from my Juno 's shores ; 
Below and above, all around me lie 
These growing fragment worlds like unto mine. 
Pigmies to old earth in their length and breadth. 
The kindred soul that led my spirit here. 



46 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

Has flown like a dove from star to star, 
Along the shining shore of Vesta land. 
To Pallas, Flora, Ceres, to them all, 
And found some reaching out into new breath, 
Breathing mites of life creeping o'er the soil, 
And birds on Pallas, singing in the trees. 
These little planets your wise men have found 
While scanning out into ethereal depths 
Within the memory of your living race. 
Jupiter is the glory of my zone, 
As we revolve around the blazing sun. 
Light from its moons are cast on Juno land 
Through its clear but dense atmospheric crust 
No dominant note from a soulful thought, 
Has pierced and found a kindred soul beyond. 
In spirit life, it's called, the Silent One. 
Vast in its glorious might it holds its peace, 
Within the realms of this enormous world, 
If life there is, it lives unto itself. 
United calls of outside spirit thought 
Remain unanswered from this brilliant sphere, 
For light to penetrate its mystery. 

*'It may not satisfy your hungry souls 
To lead your mind away with simple words, 
When you can feast upon realities. 
For I could paint of yonder Martian plains 
A wordy picture of its breathing forms. 
Unlike your earth-born bodies they appear 
More like some earthly beasts shaped for their life 
Which leads them to conform to nature's laws. 
In the peculiar sphere where they exist. 
Or show you Venus where luxurious bliss, 
Revels in an atmosphere of pure sense, 
A sense unlike your earthly thoughts of love; 
With bodies fair and graceful to your eyes. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 47 

Manhood there can view his ideal home, 

Then Saturn and Uranus draw the scene, 

Centred within its circling, shaded bands. 

The energy of atoms, rings of light. 

This haloed world, strange Saturn wends its way 

Among the uncrowned realms of mystic light. 

We'll float amid this nebula of stars. 

Perhaps to meet some spirits hovering near 

To lead us to a fairy land within. 

And show there forms of breathful life grotesque, 

If judged by weak mortals filled with conceit 

Of their superior, ideal forms. 

Man's plan for what he should be is from earth; 

When incarnated to his future life. 

How shallow is the mind of vanity. 

' I am part mortal here within your Youth, 
Function of his being, imbibe your thought. 
Through these I speak of planets by their names, 
In simple words the language of your world. 
And thus your mind has not been led astray, 
While I was pointing out those budding spheres. 
It's when your soul acquires the silent tongue. 
Which faintly whispered to my spirit thought. 
Ascending, found and drew me down to earth ; 
That you will hear with other ears more truth. 
And see with other eyes what I behold. 
Disrobe your carnal self, ascend with me 
Unchained, up through celestial paths of light. 
Out from the shadows that mankind creates. 
May Manhood dream of all this joy in store, 
Your trinity of souls must prove its power. 

SLEEP. 

"Now to your task. You and Manhood sleep. 
Upon the brink of this mossy, cushioned slope, 



48 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

Where yon can see my spirit's fading light; 
Go, now, for drowsiness tempts to repose, 
Sleep in sweetest slumber, dreaming of peace ; 
Awaking with that love that knows no bounds, 
No thought of falsehood, envy, greed or hate; 
Awake emancipated from all sin. 
Then gaze around, recalling all I've said. 
Let manhood with loving hand lead you forth, 
And beneath the boughs of this archway stand, 
Here with hearts unloaded, with joyful song 
Enter the pathway of your pilgrimage. 
Standing as now upon this brink of light. 
Your task fulfilled then bid your earth adieu. 
Go to your bed of moss, your eyelids close, 
And join in fervent prayer for victory, 
For thoughts as pure as youthful innocence, 
As babes born to a higher life awake." 



O'er the silent pair spirits chanted low, 

Soft melodies came floating on the breeze. 

Like whisperings that lisp tired hearts to rest. 

In nature's sweet unconsciousness they sleep. 

Now midnight stood between the eve and dawn. 

And deep, dark night shrouded the earth in gloom, 

While time rolls on unheeded in its course. 

Till sounds of angry tumult came apace. 

From tangled forest depths, the roar of beasts — 

Lions and tigers seeking for their prey ; 

Lightnings flashed, deaf 'ning thunder rent the air, 

Monarchs of the wood groaned 'neath tempest's blast. 

Then Manhood and Old Age awoke aghast, 

Crouched betwixt uptorn roots and broken boughs. 

Dumb in speechless agony as they gazed 

On the dying fury of nature's wrath. 

The stars came forth and Luna sheds her light 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 49 

Through trembling forest's dripping foliage; 
The veil of gloom is drawn from heaven aside 
And under the pale light of moon and stars, 
There stood two mortals still confined to earth. 
No spell now lulls their senses to repose, 
INIorning dawns and the sun of God comes forth. 
And Manhood faces Age with glaring eyes. 
And in tones defiant, hoarsely he speaks. 
As if some fiery thought his throat had parched. 
And Age with craning neck attention pays. 

^ ' Fruits of thy sophistry I now behold. 
If thou art something more than mortal man, 
Give me the proof and ease my aching heart. 
Thy intercourse with souls cut loose from earth. 
Unbodied thoughts have led my mind astray. 
The romance of the soul is dreamy food 
For senile mortals leaning o'er their graves, 
I pine for kindred nature's solid flesh. 
Throbs of earthly love, pure and undefiled, 
Tangible realities of this life. 
The taunting spirit in thy youthful shroud 
Has left us here in darkness and despair, 
With nature's final answer to thy prayer. 
How futile is mortal penetration 
Beyond the boundaries of earthly life. 
The vital spark of life now lifts me up. 
My eyes have seen thy vision from above ; 
My willing feet have followed in a dream. 
Thy phantoms cannot lead me farther on. 
Thou art the unit of the trinity. 
To seek alone thy home among the stars. 
Thy youth and I have left thee to thy fate. 
Age led Manhood as infants oft are led 
Along the path where reason is dethroned. 
Into an atmosphere of mental dreams. 



50 ROMANCE OP THE SOUL. 

* ' Behind life 's curtain drawn before our eyes, 
Awake tliy soul, come back to earth again. 
Our present life is for incarnate man ; 
Discarnate souls belong to other spheres. 
Thy celestial visitor has now flown. 
Bidding his spirit's time to cleanse himself 
Mid furies of his ethereal hell. 
Such a fate thy affinity deserves. 
His spirit ethics may perhaps atone. 
And clothe his naked soul on Juno's soil 
To roam untainted through its barren fields. 
Yet he answered well all that thou hast asked, 
A pleasing tale of his own spirit's flight, 

' ' And his words did his honest thought conceal. ' ' 
He is a prisoner now within his zone, 
Listening to spirit tales from other worlds. 
An airy gossip brought by thee to earth. 
In answer to the cravings of thy mind. 
Yet without a body this spirit sins, 
A demi-mortal lingering near our sphere. 
Through all the spirit speech I saw that power. 
Perhaps a scent of earth through earthly form, 
Brought his sensuous breath to life again. 
To feel the instincts of this sinful world. 
Longing to creep back to the flesh again. 

'^ Fain would I return to my earth bound friends 
To join the throng of those I loved so well; 
The maiden of my choice there waits for me. 
My arms would clasp her fair and yielding form. 
I'd look into her earthly soulful eyes. 
The ideal of my love dwells here below, 
Until this waking hour my mind seemed blank. 
To kindred ties that bound my heart to earth. 
Now burns within my brain a raging fire. 
Old man, it is through reverence alone 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 51 ; 

I hold my rage which tempts my very soul ' 

To crush thee down and let thy spirit flee. l 

'• ' Willst thou return ? or shall I dig thy grave ? ! 

Now, if not speechless I would hear thy voice, I 

Persuade me not to linger for more ghosts, j 
To prattle all thy senses to repose. 

Are we the 'babes of innocence,' he called? ; 

To sing in 'loving chorus' for release, \ 

For thee, alone, the fairy tale was told, \ 

This lying spirit knew the end full well, \ 

And thy own guileless soul absorbed the whole. j 

"Let's wander out into the open light, ^i 

Beyond the deep shade of this forest's gloom, i 

My rage it slumbers but to be aroused, j 

If thy face betoken or thy lips do breathe ; 
The slightest trace of thy insane desire, 

To draw me on beyond man's earthly home, i 

I'll forget old age and tinge thy gray hairs • 

With thy thin blood and loose thee from thy cage, ! 

To let thee wander from earth's casket free ' 
To the fixed stars of pythagorean heaven; 

Or to thy spirit's hell as fate may choose. * i 

Thy blood's too weak to pale at what I say; ' 

Perchance you care not for the demon loosed, ,■ 

My soul tormented by its waking sense, i 
Must place a seal upon thy spirit prayer. 

Would I could put right words into thy mouth, ] 

For fear that this wild fever of my brain ! 

Might jump the limits of its self-control. , 
Come, speak old man, if not grown dumb with fright. 

Thy senses now may lead the proper way. ' 

OLD AGE SPEAKS. i 

"Manhood, not to spare this my mortal life, i 
Do I refrain from urging thee beyond, 



52 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

Up to the mysteries of the unknown, 

Thy young hot blood aroused will make my words 

Suit thy temper until this mood wears off, 

Thy frenzy might untie these earthly bonds. 

That binds my life unto this trembling frame 

Alone to leave thee, without thy aged guide. 

To lead thee again to thy home and friends, 

Dost thou remember well that which we heard? 

The spirit's tale to us, poor mortal men, 

From yonder space once filled with mystic light. 

Now dark and over-grown with trees and vines, 

Hiding the brink of the abyss beyond. 

These vines and trees are not of magic growth, 

Our souls have drank of Lethe's stilling stream; 

We have awoke from an oblivious sleep. 

These things alone but mark the loss of time, 

And it has wrought dire havoc with thy mind. 

Destroying all our hopes for that reward, 

Promised to us poor seekers of the truth. 

Who sought to conquer life's besetting sins. 

Our long drawn night of sleep we cannot grasp ; 

We slept in deepest sleeping till that hour — 

When nature shook and rocked our earth with wrath,- 

Aroused with all this discord in thy heart. 

Thy anger cuts the very chord that bound 

Our trinity of souls. Is it a dream? 

Alone I stand in my decrepitude." 

''It seems but yesterday, yet thy dark locks 
Are tinged with gray ; thy brow is creased with care ; 
Thou art still young, yet a decade has passed. 
And still thy manly form has lost no charm. 
But if this time has flown of which I speak. 
With all the changes brought by these past years. 
Perhaps thy loved one mourned and loved again. 
As mortal love is often prone to do, 



ROMANCE OP THE SOUL. 53 

In some other manly form healed love's wound; 
Seeing there all thy virtues manifest, 
While in your dreamless sleep, she was awake. 
And in her anguish comfort came through love. 
I'll guide you to the knoll where first we met. 
When with my Youth we went in search of light. 
And leave thee to follow along the path 
.Familiar to the longings of the flesh." 

MANHOOD. 

' ' Old man, thy words bring warmth into my heart, 
Melting its frigid crust that barred thee out, 
And lifts the heavy grief that bore it down. 
Thy prophecy of love, perchance is true ; 
With thee, thy love is not the carnal kind. 
But of the spirit seeldng for the truth, 
Mine is as pure as mortal love can be, 
A bond that binds the body to the soul. 
How can I grasp this long period of sleep? 
That we have slept seems but like a dream. 
These trees and vines speak of a timely growth; 
Thy flowing beard now falls unto thy waist. 
And, leaning on thy staff with bended form, 
Makes sympathy and love bury the past. 
I am a growing likeness of thyself. 
Along the path that leads up to old age. 

' ' Old man, I remember all that we saw. 
And surely of things which thou hast not dreamed, 
Fresh to my mind the romance of the soul. 
The spirit led us on from finite man 
Up to the infinite simply with words; 
If thou hadst but gazed just below the brink. 
As I desired, to gain a nearer view, 
Wlien we approached the archway through the trees, 
Where we first viewed the scene in paradise. 



54 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

Glowing with bright and dim translucent light, 
Thou wouldst have seen a graveyard of thy kind, 
Now with me to the brink and gaze below. 

Here crane thy neck, old man, what dost thou see 1 

A fitting sepulchre for lifeless clay. 

Half hid among the flowering, tangled vines ; 

Rich in fragrance and luxuriant growth. 

Nourished by death to a more perfect life, 

Than if unfed by mortal remnants here. 

Canst thou unravel from this scene some thought. 

Less visionary than your spirit's dream? 

Ask these dry bones to whisper you their tale? 

Did they dream dreams and wander in their sleep 

Till wakened by convulsive nature's throes, 

That taught them nothing through their own conceit ? 

They lingered dreaming, in their faith they died, 

Not satisfied with life's grand miracles. 

They sought the magic wand to wield its power 

Upon the mysteries of life and death. 

Thou shrinkest now at what thou dost behold. 
These whitened bones once moved by mortal thought 
To wander beyond the forbidden line. 
Now all unlimbered, cast out to the void, 
Their lives all fled to revel who knows where. 
Perhaps in bliss where discord is unknown. 
Is discord not the note that gives the power. 
The friction that attunes with life's grand plan, 
A vital part for some wise purpose made ? 
The spirit tenant with an earthly lease, 
Remains within its temple till its fall, 
When eyes are closed through which the soul once gazed 
In wonder out on the earth, sea and sky, 
The house in which it dwelt unliinged by death. 
And of a truth what do we really know. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 55 

Poor souls, evicted, will they live again? I 

Be seated age. I'm in a pleasant mood, | 

Perhaps some spirit now controls my tongue, | 

And rambling speech may drop some word of truth." ^ 

' ' We are witnesses of our present growth, { 

Conjecture is no proof of what we were; i 

Yet there's a sense of reason that we came \ 

Through evolution to the upright man, ■ 

Grown from our leaping ancestors of yore, ; 
Still to retain some instincts of their kind, . \ 

That stoops and frolics with a narrow brain, ; 

And do we suffer for their unknown sins ? • 

Here in tliis forest where we linger still, i 
Once lit by a spirit radiant with light. 

We listened to this penitent from earth, | 

A sinner I should judge, most deeply dyed, ; 

Whose powerful words were mixed with deep regret, ; 
Still longing, craving for a higher life. 

Reaping the reward it earned here below, [ 

Was he a man of high degree debased? \ 
And by example led more souls astray? 
Contagious is the human mind diseased. 
Small in conception of life's duty here. 
Contaminating pure minds with rot. 

He tells us from his home among the stars ! 

To live the life a healthy soul should live." \ 

*i 

"Arouse thyself, old man, let reason dwell | 

On human things before thy soul departs, : 

Whilst thou hast life to think with bodied sense, | 

These skulls, alive, contained their own beliefs, j 

Within each brain was fashioned schemes of thought, ! 

As molded by their environed life. j 

Whate'er they were, here is the common end i 

Of what all human life must leave behind, i 

How like each other these relics do appear, ■ 



56 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

The hiunari face betrays the inner man, 

It is the mirror that reflects the mind, 

These bones impose a problem of the soul. 

Think ye, these empty vessels long for life ? 

They were but subjects to a master will. 

Faithful servants to man's every wish. 

But now divorced from their spirit power, 

Which roams through space ungarbed by brain or limb ; 

Which dropped to earth mere frames of clay to wait 

For resurrections to new life below. 

Credulity, impassioned by desire, 

Makes impossibilities live like truth. 

Pure truth is simple, save where faith forbids 

The exercise of our noblest thoughts. 

Thought forced to act, is not the force of thought. 

Some souls bewildered, dare not think alone 

They flee for shelter 'mid the crowded throng. 

Without eifort there to feed on such truth. 

As dogmatic seers may for them provide. 

Ten thousand sinners to one saint is born, 

Thus here on earth the odds is much too great. 

Yet half these saints are sinners in disguise. 

From what remains, there are a very few 

Teaching pureness, unselfishness and love. 

The earnest meaning of our mortal lives." 

*' Old man, let's now away into the world. 
Forget the satire of thy kindred soul. 
The wandering spirit that mixed truth with lies. 
Uttered from out the temple of thy Youth. 
Whose tongue has told the tale in human speech. 
Of a restless soul from its spirit land, 
That longs to creep back to the flesh again. 
That it might 'joy true happiness on earth. 
Let our remembrance of what we've seen. 
Dwell on the final answer to thy prayer. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 57 ; 

"It's not for manliood to chide old age, .' 

I leaned upon tliy fond hope until it failed ; \ 

Thy silence shows reluctance for the truth. 

Thy Youth has flown but Manhood still remains. | 

Lean upon my strength, let me be thy guide j 

Out from these forests' depths back to the knoll j 

From whence we came, when I lost trace of earth. \ 

Kindle thy faith anew, there's joy above. 

This winding way has lost its former gloom. , 

The pathway soon will lead us to the hill. j 

'Twas there we rested when we sought the light, ,j 

When darkness wrapped us in its sombre robes, ; 

Now unfolding into the waking day. ] 

These curling roots still lift the mossy turf . 

Where I in silence listening to thy speech, j 

Of honest thoughtfulness for life beyond. 
Thy earnest prayer to solve the mystery. 
Soon the dark forest will be left behind. 
See, yonder heights are bathed in glorious light. 
The rising sun now breaks across the sky, 

' And the heavens proclaim a new born day. 
Gaze not behind but face the rising sun. 
The everlasting truth of nature's growth. 
For yonder summit is our looked for goal. 
And there beneath the blazing light of heaven, 
I'll lift thy soul into new paths of thought." 

OLD AGE SPEAKS. 

"Manhood, I'm weary, weary, and need rest. 
I will not turn my eyes back to the gloom, 
But gaze upon the knoll from whence we came. 
Thou hast inspired my soul with a new light, 
A ray of reason dawns upon my brain, 
But age forbids, I cannot follow on. 
My limbs refuse me power, sit beside me here. 
That I may lean my head upon thy breast. 



58 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

Let the rising sun fall upon my face. 

How peaceful now my mind falls to repose. 

Thy strength I've wearied, by my faltering steps, 

And mine is ebbing quickly to its end. 

Still the delusion haunts my fading thought, 

And reason struggles in this mortal frame. 

Leave me here on this cool sward to die, 

Ascend to yon heights out into the world 

Teaching the lesson that the spirit taught. 

Of love and peace, good will to man and beast; 

Or linger here until my breath has flown. 

And when my throbbing pulse ceases to beat, 

Utter such words befitting to thy sense. 

Farewell to that which caused these lips to speak. 

And brain to fashion thought into desire. 

To seek the truth beyond the forbidden line. 

Manhood, I feel thy hand upon my brow, 

I hear thy whispers full of manly love. 

And see a light not made for mortal eyes. 

Behold, young man, there is my Youth again 

Enveloped in a light that fills all space. 

He comes in silence with triumphant mien. 

His countenance all radiant with joy. 

To take my soul into the great unknown. 

I see nought, feel nought, but this buoyant glow 

Now lifts me slowly upward from the earth. 

Dost thou still hear my feeble, mortal voice ? 

Or am I dreaming with my parting breath? 

This strange transition thou hast yet to feel. 

These waves of thought just rippling on thine ear. 

Farewell, alone I leave thee for awhile." 

' ' Old man, farewell, farewell, hast thou now found 
What we together sought while here on earth? 
Thy going lit by visions of thy youth. 
Leaves mirrored here upon thy pallid flesh. 



ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 59 

Thy faith unconquered to the final hour. 
These lips still parted by half -spoken thought, 
Imprint a smile upon thy sunken cheeks. 
No longer linked unto thy fraility, 
Thy breath, thy soul, thy life fled from the clay 
Unseen by earthly eyes makes me to feel 
The power that shaped this temple for a soul, 
Has breathed an essence of its breath divine. 
Inspired a life within thy mortal breast, 
That lives beyond this silent body here. 
'Twas not a frolic of the human brain. 
Or earth born vagary that led thee on. 
No beckoning oasis from afar. 
To mock thy innate thirst for light and truth. 
Reaching away beyond earth's charnel house. 
That buoyed thy soul from this unconsciousness. 
Up to that creation which night brings forth. 
When this bright sun has sunk into the deep. 
Revealing far off worlds to mortal eyes, 
Thy entrance now into thy other life. 
Conceals thy spirit, free from eyes like mine. 
Whate'er thy form, youth, manhood or old age. 
The 'semblance of thy faith in its abode. 
Without this human image of the clay. 
Must dwell within a halo that must shine 
In a constellation of kindred lights. 

"The hours this side of death's unknown abyss 
Are fraught with hopes of life beyond the tomb. 
If this is all of man, consigned to dust. 
To nourish nature for its springtime birth. 
Then to the Almighty Power humbly bow; 
Be satisfied with this our life below; 
With consciousness its magnitude to view, 
And intellect to govern if we will. 
To make this wonder earth our paradise." 



60 ROMANCE OF THE SOUL. 

Have faith, it's not for man to comprehend 
Unmeasured heights or fundamental base, 
On which to build beyond this earthly end, 
If death must thus our entitv efface. 



IHerr von Zcntcl j 



S am ^txt rtnn ^txxtti a hiararlifJi aott. 
3vom (^0tij anb lanlial 3 mg Ittt^agt trar^ . 



^^ BtskB tl|p I|a««t0 of trnxntttB to I|ia will. 

Sauin in a gttlrli, nrar tijp nlli rri barn stor^, 
SIt|at Itqnnr hpUb, from an tUitit Btill, 

Wl\tvi Btgn of " Clrormra/' fifotnga o>r tl|? boor, 
Nrar l^amlrt wlftrt ant lone rtjunrl? h\b esHag, I 

©o gtbp olb time-Hrttlera peare of minli; I 

A aanrtimoniona prfartjrr tangtit life foaff, r 

Wm poangeltat foaa auotl|er kinli, j 

^t kntva mattkinh anb roulh plag utell l)ta part, | 

Aa a bnffoon to pleaae tl|e rongljpat trtm, J 

Wr mitir pureat tart rearl| a Iiar&pneb Ijeart, 

(0ft from tta frozen fountain teara l|e breto, 
^t Ijati fantaatir riga to auit rarlj play. 

^et no anrplite in Ifia large park l|e bore, 
Aa a reformer t|e i^uh I?ia ofon hiag, 

®o aootlf a grief or make tlje bobg aore. 



IHerr von ITeufel 



The snow was falling fast o'er hill and dale, 

December's sun had long since led the day 
Beyond the western slope, and let the veil 

Of misty darkness fall along the way. 
On such Si night a weary traveller strayed. 

With staff and load he stems the rising gale, 
He seems a ghost in snowy white arrayed. 

And slowly jjlods along the turnpike trail. 
A man of winsome manners, stalwart, brave. 

Whose three decades of years had left a trace 
Of life's full measure, yet, his features gave 

Above it all, a manly, noble face. 

He'd bivouacked with Boers on Africa's soil, 

Adventure seemed to be his guiding star. 
He'd sought the varied scenes of life's turmoil, 

A titled wanderer with mind bizarre; 
His scheming brain and pugilistic fist. 

Were now engaged in an uplifting role. 
An itinerant, free evangelist. 

With love or fear his circuit to control, 
'Mong hills and dales beyond the middle west, 

Where nature's richness called ambitious man, 
To till the soil or for mineral quest. 

Some peaceful folk, some a boisterous clan. 

He seeks the haunts of converts to his will, 

Down in a gulch, near the old red barn store. 
That liquor sells, from an illicit still, 

Wliere sign of "Groceries," swings o'er the door. 
Near hamlet where one lone church did essay. 

To give the old-time settlers peace of mind; 
A sanctimonious preacher taught the way. 

Our evangelist was another kind. 
He knew mankind and could play well his part. 

As a buffoon to please the roughest crew. 



66 HERE VON TEUFEL 

Or with purest tact reach a hardened heart, 
Oft from its frozen fountain tears he drew, 

He had fantastic rigs to suit each play. 
Yet no surplice in his large pack he bore, 

As a reformer he had his own way. 

To soothe a grief or make the body sore. 

We find him here bewildered by the storm, 

He seeks his converts who him now await, 
To give their testimony of reform. 

And deeds of valor to their chief relate. 
No sign of life or welcome beacon light. 

Shone through the darkness to his searching eye ; 
He longed for shelter where to pass the night, 

For o'er his path the snow was drifting high. 
The time-worn road had almost disappeared. 

He climbed the roadside and by sheltered stone 
Gazed down the fields where all the trees were cleared. 

And dimly through the mist a light there shone. 

Now o 'er the fields his willing feet fast strode. 

Guided by the dim light's enticing ray. 
Until he foimd a house embanked on road, 

Wherefrom above he found an entrance way. 
His snowclad mantle to the wind he shook, 

With stealthy tread he passed through half closed 
door. 
And saw beyond a dimly lighted nook. 

From rays of light shot up through cracks in floor. 

Now from beneath there came no voice nor sound. 

In the cold shed he did not care to stay. 
An entrance from the road must now be found. 

Adown the steep bank along the turnpike way. 
He slowly made his way down to the road. 

And on the portal gave a hearty knock; 
The casing o'er the doorway dropped its load 

Of snow; soon the key turned within the lock. 
** Come in, come in, don't tarry, you are late!" 

This was his welcome, plainly understood, 
He quickly entered puzzled at his fate. 

As he before a dame of thirty stood. 



HERR VON TEUFEL 67 

His wits seemed gone, he stared like one struck mute, 
Her smiling face had quickly changed to scorn. 

In vigorous tones she cried, "Get out, you brute! 
Begone! Begone! You sneaking tramp, begone ! " 

He found his tongue and thus he spoke at last, 

"The bitter storm mthout has forced me here, 
And now within I've struck a stronger blast. 

Nought cuts so deeply as a woman's sneer; 
I'm on a mission, but not for my health, 

This luggage I would leave here if I may; 
Place it in yon cupboard, 'tis all my wealth. 

And if I perish, give it all away. 
I'll leave the key here hanging on this nail, 

Your husband's wife must be an honest dame. 
When he returns you may not tell the tale. 

How to his door, this night, a wanderer came." 

Bowing, he withdrew, not a word she said. 

And clambered up the hill from whence he came 
Into the loft, directly overhead 

Where he could view the room and angry dame. 
Softly he crept to get a look below, 

To see the true cause of her recent ire, 
And stretch his weary limbs above the glow 

Of the hearthstone"'s fitful, smouldering fire. 

His conscience smote him, yet he did apply 

To an ample crevice betwixt the beams. 
Sometimes a listening ear, sometimes an eye. 

And visions saw that were not empty dreams. 
His range of view included nearly all. 

The candle light shone from the window sill, 
The matron in deep thought leaned 'gainst the wall, 

Save the raging storm without, all was still. 

The weary watcher's eyes were prone to close, 
When to his open ear there came a rap, 

In time to cease the clamor from his nose 

And break the chord that tied him to his nap. 

A man had entered, he was tall and slim. 
The greeting at the door could not be seen, 



68 HERE VON TEUFEL 

His face was long and meek, Ms dress was trim, 
And o'er the hearthstone fire his form did lean. 

While now the watcher did this scene survey, 

With rapid thought he planned to clear the coast, 
For to his reason it was plain as day. 

Without a doubt, this man was not the host. 
His storm-wet coat was placed by fire to dry, 

Then from a package, carefully he bore. 
He took a well cooked fowl, some goods marked ''Rye," 

And on the table spread a tempting store. 
All radiant then with broad smiles of cheer. 

He chucked the comely matron 'neath the chin, 
And softly speaking, said to her, "My dear. 

To love your neighbor, surely is no sin." 

Now seated ready for their evening meal. 

His fluent speech and smiles seemed born to charm. 
When suddenly their faces did reveal 

A look of terror and of dire alarm. 
"He comes!" she cried, "I hear him at the shed! 

Let's quickly hide these many things you've brought; 
He's at the door, he'd stay a week he said. 

Hide in the closet or you will be caught." 

Now longed the watcher for more eyes and ears, 

As through the door a snowclad form appeared, 
He waits the climax for the host appears — 

A simple farmer who was slightly beered. 
He shook and placed his coat across a chair. 

Then by the hearth he filled his pipe to smoke, 
And from his forehead brushed his dark brown hair, 

Seated at ease before the fire, he spoke. 

" Say, Betsy Jane, I went to stay a week, 

I hardly 'spected to get back today, 
M}^ rig broke down while crossin' Dogwood Creek, 

Right in the stream the devil was to pay. 
I saw Billy Smith at the Red Barn store. 

He is agoin' to bring you up some flour. 
An' all the things you ordered, and some more. 

He said he'd be here at an early hour. 



HERE VON TEUFEL 69 ■ 

Say, Bet, I am no Christian, that you know, '; 

But nights like these my door is open wide ; 

To shelter homeless folks from such fierce snow, ■ 

Beneath John Bentwood's roof they can abide." j 

Now from above the silent listener heard \ 

This invitation from the room below; j 

Quickly to accept, he his limbs bestirred, j 

Well knowing he would find both friend and foe. 
Down to the road the watcher made his way. 

With one eye bound to make up a disguise, j 

For fear he might his former self betray J 

When he appeared before Dame Bentwood's eyes. ; 

His welcome from the host was now assured, ■ 

With the fair hostess he must be discreet. 
For woman's plans are always quite obscured, 

Until the time when they fruition meet. ' 

It matters not how he was ushered in, ' 

How the fair dame looked worry and despair, i 
How Farmer Bentwood's face was all a-grin. 

When he said, "Stranger, take a Bentwood chair. 
S'pose you've been knockin' roun' to find some place. 

An' 'gainst a stonewall you have bumped your mug; 

It must be some time since you washed your face, ■ 

You have a look like Billy Smith, the thug." 

The caller in well chosen words now said, j 

"Appearances judge not, my noble host; ] 

For by such this vain world is often led ' 

The value that's beneath we prize the most. 

For here tonight I can a tale unfold; i 

Realities to your wondering eyes, j 

And grant you favors when your wish is told, " 

Now as a wizard I can you surprise. 

I am Herr Von Teufel, a discarded son, i 

From Goth and Vandal I my lineage trace, j 

If as your humble guest I seem undone, j 

Yet Billy Smith can name his time and place." j 

"Mr. Herman Teufel, I am all broke up, ■ 
That tough, Billy Smith's in another line. 



70 HERR VON TEUFEL 

Say, Teufel, don't you think it's time to sup? 
You must make my hard cider do for wine." 

"Most noble Bentwood, I would fain appease 
Your seeming appetite and mine as well; 
Your lovely consort can assist with ease, 
Shall I to her or you my orders tell?" 

''Now, how in thunder do you know my name? 

I never saw you in my life before, 
There's somethin' queer about you all the same. 

Perhaps I've met you at the Red Barn store. 
If you call her consort who's scowlin' there. 

It is hard to tell just what she will do; 
S'pose Teufel, you call up a bill of fare. 

Then I'll frankly say I've some faith in you." 

"Your wife, if she desires, can now retire. 

Yet stay, dear madam, I must first confess 
My wish to gratify one great desire. 

To present you with an imported dress. 
Go, Bentwood, to that cupboard, on the shelf. 

And bring the travelling pack which there you see, 
Now unlock it, and satisfy yourself. 

In your coat pocket you will find the key. 
There is a dress on top with silken band. 

My noble host, you see the fruit it bears ; 
And here's a ring for your fair madam's hand. 

The madam does not want them she declares." 

Now from her seat the woman slowly rose. 

With puzzled look she gazed from man to man, 
Like a caged tiger in seeming repose. 

While o'er the room her watchful eyes did scan 
Each nook and corner from the wall to floor, 

As if her mind was scheming on some plot, 
To make her exit through some hole or door. 

Till soon her senses these few words begot: 
' ' This eve a traveller came and left with me 

That knapsack, saying, he would call again; 
And on that nail he hung that very key. 

It was in your pocket; can you explain? 



HERR VON TEUFEL 71 | 

;j 

John Bentwood, why should you house every tramp ' 

Whose silly speech seems pleasing to your ear? 
Mark well my words, in him you'll find a scamp, 

Unless he leaves, you'll find, 'twill cost you dear. ] 

If you care one whit for me, turn him out, i 

Or I shall leave the house this very night ; 1 

He is a crazy man, without a doubt, i 

Born with a gift to kill us all with fright." I 

''Crazy? The devil! Take the things, you fool! 
He can read the stars, penetrate the air. 

Say, Teufel, she is stubborn as a mule, j 

She likes chicken, call up the bill of fare." j 

■'Dear Bentwood, who can fathom woman's mind, I 

They seem like angels, when in love, some say; j 

Wrapped in a cloth behind that chest you'll find 1 

A nice baked cliicken, and an empty tray; i 

Some cake, and wine, and nuts, some goods marked j 

'Rye.' , 

The more you try some women's taste to please, i 

The more they'll kick, the more they'll scowl and sigh, , 

The madam, Bentwood, seems quite ill at ease, 

I have a method, a peculiar knack i 

For taming horses and such wilful wives, \ 

'Tis a strong will that leads them o'er the track, - 

And, like a horse they know the hand that drives. ; 

Your wife declines, she will not eat a thing, j 

The rye, dear Bentwood, must remain uncorked. 

Your nice, sweet cider will not mock nor sting, ; 

From your large orchards you must be well stocked ? " ,^ 

'That's right, Bentwood, there are but plates for two, ; 

If Betsy Jane will eat I'll call for more, i 

Perhaps she likes her chicken in a stew, : 

I'll call one up before the night is o'er. j 

You see, my power is equal to my boast, i 

Its potency by you must be confessed; \ 

1 can at will show devil or a ghost, j 

First ask your wife if she will stand the test ; i 
Or I can furnish you with winter suits. 

Just fitted for a stormy night like this ; 



72 HERR VON TEUFEL 

From heavy overcoat to rubber boots, 

Or make your scowling wife give you a kiss." 

' ' Say, Teuf el, are you from the devil 's clan ? 

The last you named would be the greatest yet; 
Now, make her come and kiss me, if you can. 
Please will her to forgive and to forget." 

* ' Bentwood, this is one favor that you ask, 

It is the hardest of the lot to do ; 
I have tackled many a strenuous task, 

I'd rather tame a horse than tame a shrew. 
E'er I can give the pleasure you desire, 

I must remove the cause of the distress; 
Go to the barn for wood, awliile retire. 

When you return she will her love confess." 

''Dare you Betsy, remain with him alone? 
Yes, you assent, well that is very queer, 
The chicken's gone, here take the lucky bone. 
And wish for love, that love I hold so dear." 

' ' Bentwood, in corner of the entry find 

The rubber boots, the same I promised you ; 
And overcoat, the tit you need not mind, 

Hang them in their old place when you are through." 

"Your husband's gone; I willed you to remain 

That I might tind of love one lingering ray. 
One spark — though small — to fan to life again 

Into a flame to light your homeward way. 
Woman, you see what I hold near my breast, 

Now pointed to that closet over there, 
At present he is my own humble guest, 

This may contain his powdered bill of fare. 
A sense of reason I thus mix with fear. 

Go quickly now, and lock the outside door; 
Bring me the key, and sit beside me here. 

Then I will show the one you must abhor. 
To remove this bandage and wash my face. 

Will you allow me, please, at yonder sink; 



HERR VON TEUFEL 73 

It may enhance my beauty and my grace, ' 

I don't expect you'll tell me what you think. i 

Now, madam, for a task I wish was through, \ 

Open closet door and let the prisoner out, \ 

It is the wisest thing that you can do, ■ 

Lo, here he comes, a shamefaced, graceless lout. j 

Sit here, Pluto, you heard all I have said, ] 

The time is short, but you shall hear the rest ; \ 

First of all, I must decorate your head i 

With horns and hair, just like a devil dressed, i 

And then await the coming of our host. ] 

I'll guarantee at last you'll go scot free, j 

I must produce a devil or a ghost, i 

And that devil you are engaged to be. 

You son of Saturn, you can thank your stars, ] 

That Bentwood knows not of your sorry plight. 

For he might have been my star actor Mars, ^ 

To show his science with marital might." ] 

" Madam, in cupboard you will find a suit, j 

The owner of it travelled as a clown, j 

He must have lost his bearings on some route, j 

And had to skip the circus and the town. ' ' \ 

" I 'm ready, Pluto, now to fit your wig, 

A sardonic smile, please try to invoke, , 
This goatee and moustache completes the rig. 

When I have hung around your form a cloak. | 

You can to your retreat again retire, j 

When needed, I will loudly say, Appear, \ 

Then answers to my questions I'll require, J 

In gutteral tones with a devilish leer. i 

Go, you can take a bottle of the wine, i 

It will inspire, and of the cake a slice ; j 

No, not that rye, such spirits might incline j 

You to drown your woe in Hell's paradise. " 

* ' Woman, I now can see within your eyes. 

The look of scorn you bear for yonder man ; \ 

The spell is broken and you him despise, ,; 

You know John Bentwood 's built on no such plan. ' 

I read men as I read an open book, | 



74 HERR VON TEUFEL 

Your Jolm would die e 'er he 'd submit like this, 
Now on your face I see love 's honest look, 

When Bentwood comes, embrace him with a kiss. 
In bygone days you wandered hand in hand. 

When love, first born, spoke naught but words of truth; 
Your guileless hearts with pleasure did expand, 

Let joy return with all its dreams of youth. 
Think of the pleasant hours not long ago. 

When boyish face and love won Betsy's heart, 
And now again this honest love you know, 

I leave it all with you to do your part." 

'' Count, tramp, or devil; God, he only knows 

How now my heart is smitten to the core ; 
My whole soul with love for John Bentwood flows 

With a new light it never felt before. 
With joy, I'll do your bidding; all you ask; 

Though the sense of pleasure is mixed with shame ; 
Banish the past and help me with my task. 

To make my love still worthy of his name. ' ' 

' ' Your husband comes, I will unlock the door. 
He must have brought a heavy load of wood, 
I '11 help him lay it here upon the floor. 

Then I will greet him as a brother should." 

' ' May a guest his host hearty welcome give, 

(To get the needed wood you tarried well,) 
May the house of Bentwood prosperous live. 

The devil I have fought and broke the spell. 
The rupture 's healed, the devil 's bound in chains. 

And there the queen of love awaits her king; 
Thy home, a throne, where constant love now reigns. 

Advance, my host, receive the offering." 

The storm without had ceased its raging blast, 

'Twixt parted curtains, through the window pane 

The moon from clearing sky had softly cast 
A beam of light, which rested on the twain. 

Their hands entwined, her head upon his breast, 
From her lips came a low impassioned sigh. 

While on his face, faith dwelt in peaceful rest, 



HERR VON TEUFEL 75 

And nature seemed inspired to sanctify. 
Deep silence reigned, the candle light burned low, 

With sputtering sparks its ebbing life expired. 
The hearthstone's blaze with its fresh food did glow. 

And peace came home again when strife retired. 

Now joy was born and Bentwood came to life, 

He swore he had awoke as from a dream. 
Of peaceful love which had been lost in strife. 

And Betsy whispered, "John, it so does seem." 
Bentwood with wonder looked upon his guest. 

While Betsy Jane his willing hand still clasped; 
On her shoulder his bearded cMn did rest. 

And with amazement he then gazed and gasped. 

"Are you the one who all this joy has brought? 
I hardly know you since your barber came ; 
You are the same old Teufel, are you not? 
I almost doubt that Bentwood is my name." 

"Yes, you are Bentwood; I'm the same Herr von, 
I've washed my face, perhaps I look less mean. 
There are many virtues 'neatli things we scorn, 

As there is vice 'neatli what seems washed and clean." 

"The hours move on, I must your pardon crave. 

It seems like sacrilege to now awake 
You from your dreams and show the craven knave, 

The cause of all our woe, man 's first mistake ; 
That tainted all of earth's primeval ])liss, 

That we should wander through life 's glorious hell 
'Mid en\'y, greed and hate, and all of this 

We must endure, because two mortals fell." 

" Go gaze through window out into the night. 

And watch the wonders of the heavens above ; 
The earth fast bound in its soft shroud of white, 

A shroud as cool as hate, as pure as love. 
In silence gaze while I my charm repeat, 

I'll stir the fire into a glowing blaze. 
He'll drop in softly from his dark retreat. 

Then you can turn and on the devil gaze." 



76 HERR VON TEUFEL 

"Appear, my Pluto, make no dire alarm, 

You have waited well for my call tonight ; 
Obey my mandates, have no fear of harm, 
I am the judge, your sentence will be light." 

' ' Dear host, here stands the emblem of the curse, 

Gaze on the tempter, hear what he will tell, 
I have tamed many, this one is the worse 

Looking devil that ever cast a spell. 
To lead some weakling mortal's mind astray 

From the narrow path where our virtues lie ; 
Just note the leer and the peculiar sway, 

Bentwood, fetch the bottle, uncork the rye." 

' ' Pluto, you come in such fantastic shape. 

It is hard to tell what acts you perform ; 
From what menagerie did you escape ? 

I will try and make your reception warm. 
I have little honor for such small game, 

But will decide your case as it is meet ; 
From now, remember, Peter is your name. 

Sometimes for short I'll simply call you Pete." 

' ' Here, Peter, drink, it is for you to choose. 

You know it has more strength than beer or wine ; 
Weak-minded men but seek it to abuse. 

Poor mortal swillers guzzle it like swine. 
It is a product drawn from field and plain, 

Where in glory it gently nods its head 
To every breeze, a sea of waving grain. 

At last to men and hogs most freely fed. 
Down by Tartarus flows a magic stream. 

To drink of which it is to doubly die ; 
Forgetting all, not even power to dream, 

This sample here is labelled, 'Good Old Rye.' 

* ' Pete, I 've been in hell ; what I say, I know ; 

I have heard the old dog Cerberus bark. 
Have swam the stream where lethal waters flow, ji 

And joined in many a Plutonic lark. ll 

I awoke from my thorny, restless bed. 

To fight the tyrant demon to a rub ; 



HERR VON TEUFEL 77 ! 

i 

I broke Ms ribs, and crushed his horny head, ^ 

'Twas then I vowed to start a Devil Club. \ 

To seek the worst, to lead a fighting crew, i 

But only those converted to our cause ; I 

We have a place for simpletons like you, \ 

You must comply and sign to live our laws. l 

Say, Peter, were you ever down below '. 

In Hades'? How long did you there remain? j 

Were you a saint before those horns did grow? j 

What promised pleasure did you there obtain?" , 



*'Herr Teufel, I am a man slow of speech, 

Please don't forget that we are sinners all. 

When temptation lies near within our reach. 

The best of mortals are then prone to fall." 



a 



I was in Hades five long hours before 

I felt the pleasure of some good, old wine. 
The only pain was longing for some more. 

What constitutes a saint you can define. 
In that dark nook that measures two by six. 

Which seemed like a purgatorial cell. 
Near one fair saint who got me in this fix, 

There and then I felt all the pangs of hell." 

Temptation led my human feet astray. 

And you my tongue have loosed with wine and rye. 
Which now makes me feel quite jocose and gay. 

With your permission, I am getting dry. 
As you know all things you can read my life, 

Like Adam, through woman, I 'm in distress ; 
You know the cause of all this mortal strife, 

More, Herr Confessor, I cannot confess." 

Zounds! That's the meanest I have ever heard, 

On a fair woman you would cast the blame, 
I here renounce my promise, every word, 

On my compassion you have now no claim. 
You lose your wits whene'er you loose your tongue, 

I thought, perhaps, the rye would make you brave, 
A wretch like you should never go unhung. 

It is pure flattery to call you knave." 



78 HERR VON TEUFEL 

"Now, Pete, have you a patron saint? then pray, 

All my success depends upon your prayer, 
If it is answered then you go your way. 

If not, you'll get a redhot bill of fare. 
Not on your knees ! Stand up and show your sand ! 

No whining ! by it you will nothing gain. 
Keep seated, Bentwood, it is my command, 

You are the jury, stand up, Betsy Jane! 
You have heard this fallen angel's dire complaint. 

And seen him grovelling in the pangs of woe. 
Were you the tempter? Now without restraint 

Simply answer with one word. Yes or No." 

"Herr von Teufel, one word will hardly do, 

I will the truth with perfect candor treat. 
Instead of one I'll simply use the two. 

Yes and No, I have been quite indiscreet. 
You were the angel rapping at my door. 

That broke the spell that did my heart allure, 
And made me truly that foul wretch abhor. 

Leaving John Bentwood 's wife as ever pure." 

' ' The favored daughter of the village squire, 

I married John against my father's will, 
Pity with love did then my heart inspire ; 

Disowned, I now this humble station fill. 
It is vanity in a woman's heart 

That flutters low when soft flattery fawns, 
Kindling unholy fire by devilish art. 

'Twere well, if every devil wore his horns 
And not that meek, deceiving, fair disguise, 

Softness of speech that disarms all our fears, 
Truth mixed so deftly with foulest of lies. 

Within an honest heart a demon rears. 
One word from me, and yonder imp of hell. 

Would feel all the power of John Bentwood 's hand; 
I can control him now, and it is well, 

Or loose him on the cur at your conunand." 

' * Madam, you answer well ; I comprehend 
The very depth of all you would disclose ; 
Yet for awhile his sentence I suspend, 



HERR VON TEUFEL 79 | 

I 

Let your husband speak, then I will impose l 

A penalty that with the crime accords. \ 

His testimony for himself seems weak, • 

For now against the culprit are the odds, j 

And, what have you to offer, Bentwood, speak." ^ 

''Herman Teufel, I hardly can keep back j 

From f ellin ' your old devil with a blow ; | 

From pleasure you have dropped me on the rack, ? 

In spite of horns and hair his voice, I know. . 

I've heard it singin' praises to the Lord, j 

An' tremblin' in the solemn tones of prayer, ; 
On Ms account, poor Betsy, I have jawed; 

Perhaps I am mistaken, but I swear, ■■ 

If he would sing that same, old hjTxin again, j 

The words, 'When I can read my title clear,' 1 

I would know him then, it would all be plain, \ 

Though like a devil he does now appear. . i 

I leave it all with you : I am subdued ; | 

It is too much for mortal man to bear, 1 

I s'pose to you, 'tis clearly understood. | 

Betsy, Herman Teufel will do what's square, ,; 

An' though the heavens fall I'll stick to you, ; 

An' while I live I'll never budge no more, j 

For here, tonight, begin we life anew. I 

I will not loaf around the Red Barn store, i 

An' leave you unprotected, all alone: ■ 

That Billie Smith's a better man than me, j 

To all of us it is a fact well known. j 

He always told me, let the bug juice be. j 

Your devil, if he will not sing the hymn, . \ 

Perhaps with rye to song he may be led, j 

Fill him up with budge, fill him to the brim, j 

For wine with whiskey gives a sorry head." j 

"Cheer up, my host, for I now prophesy j 

That joy will come, your path will brighter grow, j 

As shadows shorten when the sun is high, | 

And after tempest comes the tinted bow." j 

"Take this manual of our laws and creed, \ 

The thistle and the thorn our emblems are. 



80 HEKR VON TEUPEL 

Like ripened sin one casts abroad its seed, 
The other grows mid flowers everywhere. 

We have our rulers and they number five, 
Our followers we hold by love and fear, 

To all our senses we are each alive. 

To see, to feel, to taste, to smell, and hear." 

''My host, the morning light will soon appear. 

Then will my mission with you be complete ; 
Your path of duty now is plain and clear. 

Be faithful, for we soon again will meet. 
The missionaries for our cause you'll find 

In many places that you'd least expect, 
They are about in every form and kind 

For our members only can them detect. 
On your small finger wear this ring of steel, 

Try to yourself and others to be just; 
In your own way uplift our cause with zeal. 

Don't let this emblem or your senses rust." 

"Now, Pete, unloose your sleeve and bare your arm, 

I need just blood enough for you to sign. 
This pledge to all our laws ; and fear no harm, 

My knife is sharp, the point is very fine. 
Here is a drink of rye to help your nerve, 

I only need a drop to tip the quill. 
Later comes the penalty you deserve, 

I'm only waiting for that tough, named Bill. 
I shall tell him the story of your crime. 

And think that he will know just what to do, 
He is a lusty giant in his prime. 

And he'll be glad to take full charge of you." 

' ' Say, Mr. Teuf el, let me shake your hand. 

They say to spoil a child just spare the rod. 
While your arguments I can't understand, 

I know that I am drunker than a lord. 
My name is Ezekiel Uriah Brown, 

You've knocked the brown all out till I am black, 
I hardly think I'll preach again in town. 

But join your royal club's symposiac. 
I have signed my name, now give me a ring, 



HERR VON TEUFEL 81 \ 

And just one more drink of that good old rye, ;• 

Then to the wind all my cares will I fling, t 

Hurrah, Betsy Bentwood! Hurrah, Good Bye!" i 

Then Peter yawned and shook his weary head, I 

And fell into a heap upon the floor, 1 

John Bentwood," Betsy cried, "the devil's dead!" '< 

Just then the devil gave a vigorous snore. I 

Von Teufel now from his deep pocket drew | 

His well worn flute, and seated high in chair, ■[ 

Slowly and softly the sweet notes he blew '< 

Of an old time song, a familiar air. t 

While music soft in wavering tones arose, -j 

And melted into strains that seemed to sigh, | 

Then to sweet dreams of love their eyelids close, i 

While Peter breathes his nasal lullaby. j 

Up in the starry blue the moon hangs low, j 

And night, fast spent now mingles with the day, • ' 

The distant hills enshrined in mellow glow. 

While feathered heralds voice their roundelay. 
Through wind-row drifts of snow blown by the gale, 

In crestlike waves that roll upon the shore. 
Curled in winding sheets over field and trail j 

A traveller labored 'neath the load he bore, j 

Till at last the long looked for goal he sees, i 

Beneath a hill, adown the winding way. 
Amid the snow clad boughs of hemlock trees, 

A timeworn house and barn he does survey. 
Then soon beneath a shed his way he found, 1 

And placed his load upon a pile of straw ; 
•The windows of the house with frost were bound, i 

But through the farther one a light he saw. 

He cleared his way ahead and found the door. 

And loudly rapped, yet no one did appear ; . 

Then to his ear there came a startling snore, ; 

"Bentwood has gone to town, that's very queer." j 

He tried the door, the latch he softly raised, j 

It opened into a small entry way ; 
He stepped beyond and in amazement gazed 



82 HERE VON TEUFEL 

Over the strange scene that around him lay ; 
Before Mm in their chairs three forms reclined, 

And slumber's restful peace their features wore; 
Two like lovers slept with their hands entwined, 

Another sprawled full length upon the floor. 
There was Bentwood and his wife, well he knew. 

He saw they had again renewed troth-plight ; 
Still at a loss to know the other two, 

'Twas evident that love had won the fight. 

There were remnants of a bibulous fare — 

On stand a pistol, flute and folded gown; 
The greatest mystery of all was there. 

The strange clad figure of a devil clown. 
The hearthstone fire gave but the slightest glow. 

He sought to start the blaze, the room was chill. 
When to his ear there came a whisper low, 

"We waited long for you tonight, dear Bill." 
Then starting to his feet he gazed around, 

From whence the whisper came he could not trace ; 
The voice it had an old familiar sound. 

Quietly then he scanned each form and face, 
And like his own on each were emblems worn. 

The emblems of the mission Devil Band. 
The clown, he wore the thistle and the thorn. 

The ring of steel he saw upon each hand. 
At last von Teufel's sleepy face he knew. 

Approaching whispered softly in his ear, 
' ' Here noble leader of our wandering crew, 

I see a sample of your love and fear." 

Yon Tcufel now sat upright in his chair. 
And on his open hand reclined his head, 

While Billie Smith assumed a thoughtful air. 
To listen to the words von Teufel said. 

"Your experience in our club has shown 

The ways and means by which we men uplift ; 
By mixing with the vilest sinners known. 

We weave a net through which foul sin we sift. 
This is no miracle that you behold. 
An accident was but the simple cause. 



HERR VON TEUFEL 83 

This fallen man is now within our fold, 

And Bentwood and his wife embrace our laws." 

Yes, Mister Teufel, all you say is true, 

I thought that I was once the only tough, 
And tried to knock you out before our crew. 

Guess I don't forget how I cried. Enough. 
I s 'posed you would be back some days ago, 

I've got a dozen for the third degree, 
I gave first and second without a blow. 

Perhaps they'll join the church with number three. 
Please me my orders give, what I shall do, 

I'll bring the flour and stuff from out of doors. 
Then let me make a good, old fashioned stew, 

Clear up the room and do all Bentwood 's chores." 

' Yes, Billie, let's set the room all to rights. 

If you have time prepare the morning meal, 
Please do not mention more about your fights, 

With this poor devil soon we'll have to deal. 
Place all my traps within my pack again, 

(That gown I used in old Fritz Byspiel's show,) 
Let them the manuals and rings retain. 

When ready, we will take our things and go." 

The steaming stew in pot hung on the crane. 

Sent forth rich fumes of a savory meal ; 
The rising sun shone through the window pane. 

The prostrate sleeper now required their zeal. 
They lift him gently, seat him on a chair. 

The devil's garb they quickly from him take, 
Then wash his face and comb his tangled hair 

And soon Ezekiel Brown is wide awake. 

He gazed around with a bewildered look. 

First on Billie Smith, then upon Herr von. 
While his whole frame with a strong tremor shook. 

His aspect was degraded and forlorn. 
Voiceless he sat as if he did await. 

Some promised vengeance held for him in store. 
As if no effort now could change his fate. 

Not one word for mercy did he implore. 



84 HERE VON TEUFEL 

A plate of stew he ate at their command, 

He seemed refreshed, and rose up in his seat, 
Then reaching out, the pistol grabbed from stand, 

And with a bound he stood upon his feet. 
With weapon pointed, he backed to the door. 

In measured tones these words he hoarsely said, 
' ' Stir but one foot, I '11 nail you to the floor. 

If death you seek, the crime be on your head. 
I'll take my coat, and boots, the hat I wear. 

You see, I hold the power, and will retire. 
As this contains a powdered bill of fare. 

Don't let me warm it by the pistol's fire." 

"One word to you. Von Teufel, I would say, 

Your philosophy, it is quite profound. 
Although I must thus tear myself away, 

I give my sincere pledge, to you, I'm bound. 
While I have the power you can plainly see, 

That I am not a man to be despised. 
Make me your honored aide in some degree. 

Through you, all other hopes I've sacrified." 

Von Teufel now his chin did slowly stroke, 

Billie Smith stood gazing with mouth agape. 
Then in mild accents Herr von Teufel spoke, 

(The Bentwoods still enjoyed their morning nap.) 
' ' Your forceful argument I can 't deny. 

On two conditions you my aide can be. 
First, in your daily bread consume your rye. 

The second is to prove your faith in me." 

"Ezekiel Uriah Courageous Brown, 

This is to put your bravery to a test ; 
Then, unmolested you may go to town. 

First fire, and hit this thistle on my breast. 
Faith is loyalty to your leader's cause. 

To be my aide, you'll fire at my command, 
Yon have Von Teufel's word, you'll break no laws. 

For I will catch the bullet in my hand. 
This mark upon my breast you see it plain. 

Your pistol has six charges, you must strive 



HERR VON TEUFEL 85 

To hit it ; if you fail, then try again, 

Please fire at my command when I count five." 

"One, Ezekiel, and now I've counted two; 

Three, Uriah, and I have counted four; 
Aim straight at me, the target's clear in view, 

Five, fire ! — there lies the thistle on the floor. 
Flee, when I need you again Smith will call. 

Quick, do not let the Bentwoods find you here. 
And take your clothing, hat, coat, boots and all, 

Have faith in what you preach and be sincere." 

From their long sleep the Bentwoods now awoke. 
And springing to their feet they stood aghast 

To see sitting beneath a cloud of smoke. 

Smith and Herr von Teufel at their repast. 

"Bentwood, this is the climax of the plot. 

Now join us in this meal around your cloth, 
Come quickly, for the stew is prime and hot, 

Billie and I have long since pledged our troth. 
This smoke the incense is of warlike strife. 

Raised by our convert Peter, who has flown 
To other fields, to start again in life. 

And a rich harvest reap from seed thus sown." 

* ' Come, Bill, we must away, the sun is high. 

The old Red Barn store w^e must reach by noon ; 
Farewell my friends until in evening sky. 

Hangs o'er your fruitful fields the harvest moon." 

"Now, Betsy Jane, you are John Bentwood's rose. 
And ally to the thistle and the thorn. 
For where this fairest emblem blooms and grows, 
The rugged thorns protect while flowers adorn." 



II 



flftieccllaneoue 



/Iftiscellaneous 



THE NEW CHURCH PEWS. 

Said Sarah Jones to Betsy Dow, 

Don't s'pose you've heard the news, 
They say they had a reg'lar row 

Over our new church pews. 
You know they 'pointed a committee 

To get the colors right. 
And sent five sisters to the city; 

They all got home last night. 

Jane Parley and that young Miss James, 

Wanted the cushions red; 
But Prudence Smith and Aunty Ames, 

Chose gray, so Pauline said. 
Now, my Pauline had formed a scheme, 

(My darter paints, you know,) 
She'd*^ set her heart on a kind of cream. 

Something with warmth and glow. 

They took the first train out of here. 

They were dressed up to kill; 
And each one took her lunch, for fear 

They might run up a bill. 
They tramped around from store to store, 

And filled their sample bags, 
What Pauline got, with a few more, 

I'll use for carpet rags. 

They called for what they did not see, 

The clarks were very kind; 
They soon commenced to disagree 

Arid each one spoke her mind. 
The reds they took the first train back, 

They were provoked way through; 
The grays kept Pauline on the rack. 

Just think what they did do! 



90 MISCELLANEOUS 

Tried one of those politic games, 

And one you'd little dream, 
The offer came from Aunty Ames 

To settle on ice cream. 
My Pauline is way through a Jones, 

She said, "I'm not for sale." 
And 'twas in no unsartain tones; 

It kinder raised a gale. 

The committee meet next week some day. 

Each party trims a pew, 
In cream, and red, and Ames' gray, 

And we will vote one through. 
Our pastor's a dogmatic man. 

So my Pauline has said. 
He favors her artistic plan. 

He don't like gray nor red. 

The church walls are a russet brown, 

The ceiling greenish blue. 
With frescoed border all around, 

A number on each pew. 
I'll tell you all next time we meet, 

Excuse Pauline and me. 
We're making trimmings for that seat, 

Next time, please stay to tea. 

Say, mother, there comes Betsy Dow, 

She's coming up the walk; 
I think it's time to milk the cow. 

Now you can have a talk. 
Why, Betsy! Betsy! Bless my heart! 

I thought you'd gone for good; 
You must have made an airly start, 

Let me untie your hood. 

Now lay your things in on the bed, 

And take the easy chair, 
And rest yourself. I'll mix the bread, 

Then I'll have time to spare. 
Eeuben has gone to see Squire Dwight, 

He walked, Bob's lost a shoe. 



MISCELLANEOUS 91 | 

Now you must stay with us all night, ' 

Pauline will play for you. | 

It's just six weeks ago today < 

Sence we were talking here, ' 
The clouds have now all passed away, 

The sky is bright and clear. j 

All the news I'll tell, Betsy, dear, ■ 

And 'bout sweet Sister Bly, ■ 
How "I can read my title clear 

To mansions in the sky." ^ 

A fiery trial 'twas indeed. ^ 

We all were sorely tried, -j 

Sweet charity is now our creed, j 

And self must be denied. - 

Now firmly on a rock I stand, i 

Amid life's surging sea, : 

Through faith I see the promised land, \ 

Old sin can't conquer me. j 

Why, Sarah Jones! You ought to preach, ' 

Now, when you are all through, i 

Don't let me interrupt your speech, \ 

What did the sisters do ? " 
The sisters? Betsy, I declare 

You're on the anxious seat, ] 

I'll tell you all that happened there, 1 

The story's short and sweet. 1 

:j 

Our new church pews are mellow green, j 

With no approach to gray, j 

No red, no cream, can there be seen; ! 

It came about this way: 

They met, they talked, there was a squall, ' 

Each vote came out a tie; ; 
Just eight and twenty votes in all, 

One green, from Sister Bly. ] 

] 

In little groups of two and three, i 

They tried to win more votes; 

Each claimed the other could not see — ' 

A case of beams and motes. j 



92 MISCELLANEOUS 

Jane Parley and that young Miss James 

Each stood up in a pew, 
Showed their colors and their claims; 

My Pauline did so, too. 

The language used was too profane — 

For such a place, I mean; 
And every one seemed quite insane, 

'Cept Susan and Pauline. 
Nine reds, nine creams, and nine for gray, 

With samples round each arm, 
March up and dow^n in this array, 

But Susan Bly was calm. 

She cast her vote and gently said, 

"I'd like to vote for gray. 
And if perchance I vote for red, 

The creams can't win the day." 
She walked from out the noisy throng. 

Her face was sad and pale. 
I kinder thought there's something wrong. 

She leaned up 'gainst the rail. 

As if ashamed, she bowed her head. 

She sat down by the door; 
When she was coaxed to vote for red. 

She said, "My heart is sore." 
Then Susan slowly made her way 

Up to the altar chair, 
And in sweet trembling tones did say, 

"Let's join in silent prayer." 

We all stood still in mute surprise. 

And were so ill at ease, 
Until we dropped with closed eyes 

Upon our bended knees. 
Deep silence then reigned supreme; 

Gray knelt 'long side the red. 
With here and there a touch of cream 

Beneath a drooping head. 



MISCELLANEOUS 93 

It seemed as if a heavy load 

Was lifted from my breast, 
When from the lips of Susan flowed, 

A prayer for peace and rest. 
From here and there there came a sigh, 

And when I raised my head, 
They all had laid their samples by, 

You could not see a shred. 

I don't think that such a scene 

Was ever known before; 
It converted ni}^ dear Pauline, 

And half a dozen more. 
We noted not the time of day, 

Until my Pauline sang, 
"God moves in a mysterious way." 

Just then the church bell rang. 

The church was full to overflow, 

Some gossip spread the news. 
They came to see, and hear, and know. 

About the new chvn^ch pews. 
The pastor came, he read the notes. 

And then we sang a praise. 
But not a word about the votes. 

The creams, the reds, the grays. 

And when he preached, he took his text, 

1st Peter iv, 12-8 , 
But not a soul of us was vexed. 

He hit us clean and straight. 
There are the words above the shelf. 

All worked in green and gold, 
Pauline she made it all herself. 

Betsy, my story's told. 



94 MISCELLANEOUS 



RONDEL. 



All alone by the fireside dreaming, 
Leaning upon tlie old vacant chair, 
Dreaming of one whom death would not spare, 
Within whose eyes I sought love's beaming. 

The embers bright 'twixt shadows gleaming. 
Imaged her form again sitting there, 
All alone by the fireside dreaming, 
Leaning upon the old vacant chair. 

All my soul with longing was teeming, 
Born from a spark to vanish in air, 
A vision of love helpless and fair, 
Nothing of life only a seeming. 
All alone by the fireside dreaming. 



PALESTINE. 



The sun hangs low in western skies, the frosty north winds 
blow. 

Across New England hills and dales white with the drift- 
ing snow. 

December's twilight closes down upon that glorious eve, 

Before the dawn of Christmas morn — a night when fan- 
cies weave; 

Back through the centuries of time, back to that holy day, 

When the wandering star seen from afar led them on their 
way; 

Those patriarchs of faith and hope watching the starlight 
gleam, 

Through trailing mist of dawning light, from Jordan's 
flowing stream ; 

Till o'er the plain of Bethlehem, it stood at early dawn, 

Above the shrine of the Babe Divine, that fair Christmas 
morn. 

Across the plains of Esdraelon, over beyond Gilboa, 
Along the fields of Palestine, rich with their harvest store ; 
Still on to Nain, the village where minaret and towers 



MISCELLANEOUS 95 

Peer through the valley-way from Nazareth's hills and 

bowers ; 
There sweetly nestled 'mid these hills of Galilee is seen 
The boyhood home of the Shepherd Lad, the humble Naz- 

arene, 
Whose little feet so lightly trod the verdant hills above, 
Watching his bleating, wandering flock, with tenderness 

and love. 
In play and toil he knew life's cares, and felt His hallowed 

birth. 
And He dreamed of a kingdom fair, beyond the woes of 

earth ; 
Not built with hands, a priceless realm, by his Father 

given. 
Through Christ, a Christmas gift so rare, eternal life in 

Heaven. 

O Bethlehem ! O Nazareth ! The world bows at thy shrine. 
Immortal hills! Immortal plains! Immortal Palestine! 



BY GRACE THROUGH FAITH. 

(sonnet.) 

Great Unseen Friend ! Through faith we clearly see, 

When shadows fall so darkly o'er the way, 

'Mid all the gloom there comes a steady ray 

That lights the narrow path which leads to Thee. 

Which leads to Thee wherever we may be 

On life's broad road where man is prone to stray. 

Thy precious yoke preserves us day by day. 

It makes the burden light by grace so free. 

With Thee to live it is not death to die ; 

In Thy fellowship living is complete. 

Thy spirit breath seems wafted from on high, 

To sooth the longing soul with love so sweet, 

That peace and rest for all Thou 'It not deny, 

If sought in meekness at the mercy seat. 



96 MISCELLANEOUS 

SANCTIFIED. 

Benighted souls who dream they are alone 
The only true disciples of the Lord; 
All others they rebuke with chastening rod, 
Sitting in judgment on their lofty throne, 
Without a sinfor which they should atone. 
They tread with vanity, not faith, earth's sod. 
Claiming full sanctity with its reward, 
Clothed in a conscious figment all their own. 

Supercilious purity of thought. 
Pure as the driven snow% so cold and dead. 
Hearts whose true sympathy have never crossed 
The line where mortal's noblest deeds are wrought. 
Beyond the shadow where sunlight is shed 
Melting man's selfishness, life's blighting frost. 



A CHRISTMAS PIPE DREAM. 

Say, Bill ! I wish dat we 's was rich, 

t know's just what I'd do. 
An' youse would do der same as me. 

We'd be a jolly crew. 
With a big wagon full of things. 

Drawn by a dandy horse. 
On Christmas Day we'd sport around. 

An' play we's Santa Claus. 

We'd give fine skates to all der boys. 

An' dolls to Kate an' Jane, 
Whole lots of things to that poor crowd, 

Dat lives up in our lane. 
We'd go an' get big piles of wood, 

Der shiverin' kids to warm, 
I tells you, Bill, we'd whoop her up. 

We'd take the town by storm. 

But, this is only s'posin' Bill, 

We haven't got der dough. 
It will not come by 'maginin', 

We's awful poor you know. 



MISCELLANEOUS 97 

Those great big bugs upon der hill, 

They knows it is no dream, 
They's do not feel der Christmas cold, 

In houses piped with steam. 

Through pipe dreams we's fergit der cold. 

But soon as we's awake, 
We's thanks our stars if we's in luck, 

If not, it's a mistake 
For to be born dow^n in der hole, 

Not on der upper deck. 
Old Santa Claus might pass us by. 

We'd git ours in der neck. 



EASTER. 



All nature breaking forth from winter's sleep. 
The sere and crusted fields grow green and gay 
With buds and blossoms. O'er the hills away 
The warp and woof of grassy weavings creep. 
O'er marsh, thro' dale and up the hillside steep, 
Nature commands, and life hid in the clay 
Breaks from its bonds to resurrection day; 
And loud the anthems ling and onward sweep 
From Bethlehem to lands of every clime. 
The natal hour ushered out of winter's night 
Rings forth from belfry tower chime on chime 
And hearts ascend to old Calvary's height. 
Look thro' the long, dark centuries of time. 
There mark the dawn of life's bright Easter light. 



LICENSE? 



(ballads.) 

Each second there 's a mortal born. 

No license law can nature sway. 
We laugh and cry from life's first dawn. 

And live along just as we may. 

To vote a yes, to vote a nay. 



98 MISCELLANEOUS 

For whatsoever it may be ; 

Who steers their bark across life's bay; 

Our own ideas we each obey, 
O K for you, N G for me. 

Some have for masters, barleycorn, 
They see no wrecks sad and forlorn. 

They're having lots of fun they say. 

Though angels weep while devils play. 
No wonder why we can't agree. 

And some with all their might inveigh 
When you O K what they N G. 

All arguments you treat with scorn. 

Your rights we shall not take away, 
Your nose with color to adorn. 

Or have it broken in some affray. 
That sign of license you display. 

Which tells of life's wild jubilee. 
To friend's and kindred's dire dismay 

You still O K what we N G. 



Prince of reason, the sense convey 
To those so blind they cannot see, 

There yet remains the good old way, 
O K the good, the bad, N G. 



SAN FRANCISCO. 

Wrapped in the arms of nature's peaceful rest. 

In soundest sleep, or dreams of joy or woe, 
In confidence on her old trusted breast ; 

Could Mother Earth arise and be a foe. 
Yet like a cradle rocked by giant hand. 

Gone mad beneath foundation soil and stone, 
Wrenching the ties that bind where mortals stand, 

Wavering, tottering, falls man's stately throne. 



MISCELLANEOUS 99 

The solid gates of Hell all seem ajar, ; 

Forth pour their lurid glare o 'er Golden Gate ; \ 
On dome and tower are raging near and far, 

Like demons loosed their lust to satiate. 5 

Prayers from trembling lips, — cheeks all pale with dread, | 

The humble and the proud one common herd, I 

And Faith despairing whispers. Is God dead? . 

Yet all the hearts of men with love are stirred. ] 



AD OCULUS. 



A philosopher stood scratching his pate, j 

Chewing his mental cud, ] 

Viewing a scene right up to date, , 

Political splashes of mud, ] 

Thrown by the boys across the street, ; 

And from the other side. , 

He ducked his head, made a retreat, ' 

And from a housetop cried: i 

"Where are the wise men of this place? ' 

The men of sterling brains, \ 

With honor, not the brazen face \ 

That smiles on selfish gains ? ] 

And wheedles with persuasive lies, j 

Good men to stoop and steal. 
To take the dollars, close their eyes. 

Sinking too deep to squeal?" . 

Philosophers are grinding still, ; 

Ye gods, they grind so slow ' 

To get a product through the mill ! 

That has the proper glow; i 

Of the right stuff that stands the test, j 

Percentage ninety-eight, \ 

In time we may achieve the rest, j 

Now, let us clean the slate! | 



100 MISCELLANEOUS 

SMILES. 

You liave met that man who will acquiesce 

With everything you say, 
You have met him in town and on the train, 

The man who never says, Nay. 
He's always on hand with a pleasant smile. 

When you take your regular cheer. 
Such men are around most everywhere, 

With an air so debonair. 

That woman you know, with a rich old brogue, 

Who wears a broad, pleasant smile, 
AVith a "God bless you," when her fruit you buy. 

But 3^ou never tip your tile. 
She lives in her Avorld, you live in your own, 

Each feels the dividing line. 
Yet her heart is as big with joy and love • 

As the one you call divine. 

You have seen that man with a swollen head. 

Who carries the heavy strain 
Of a large, responsible load on earth 

Which sits so hard on his brain. 
That it crushes the smile into a stare — 

A far off studied frown. 
When you crave for a light for your cigar. 

In a smoking car to town. 

If 3^ou 've been in this world for many years, 

You've noted candor or guile. 
By the wa}^ your neighbor made up his face 

When he laughed or smiled a smile. 
A grin is a smile that's crippled at birth, 

How many cripples Ave see, 
When your country friend tells his latest joke 

Plucked from an old chestnut tree. 

What's the name of that smile we hold so dear. 
That makes the frozen heart thaw, 

From the woman we love but can't understand, 
What is it? "Je ne sais quoi!" 



MISCELLANEOUS 101 

But smiles are not always what tliey seem, 

The faces we see while we roam, 
May be but a veil,— the test of the man 

Is the smile he wears at home. 



AUTUMN. 



The leaves are falling to the ground, j 

The trees will soon undress, \ 

Scattering their clothing all around. I 

Soon Winter will caress j 

Their naked limbs, once clad with green, j 

Now blushing, they unfold ! 

Denuded branches bare and clean ' 

To shiver in the cold, j 

Waiting the mantle chill as death, 

Where snow-birds chirp their lay, 
Until the springtime's balmy breath 

Hails resurrection day. 



THE PRESS. 



From Suns and Worlds and even Stars, i 

We get the daily news, i 

In time we'll have a monthly Mars ' 

With latest, wireless clues. 
To tell how they dig their canals. 

Some aid for Panama, j 

What are they social animals, 

Upright or angular? ^ 

Most noted names from heaven and earth. 

The press does magnify. 
On top of some new sheet at birth. 

To catch the public eye. j 

But names, alas, are only names. 

Something that cuts no ice. 
That play their own politic games, 

With virtue or with vice. 



102 MISCELLANEOUS 

Yet there are names we might suggest, 

That would just fill the bill, 
For crooked people to detest. 

Whose nerves get a thrill. 
And here 's a name that might adorn, 

Call it the "Daily Prune." 
A clipper's name from scissors born, 

Or else the "Evening Moon." 

This could reflect some well known sheet. 

Such things are often done, 
And no quotation marks repeat. 

Reflections from the sun. 
We've "Standards" and our "Daily Posts," 

"Patriots" bold and true, 
We ought to have more ' ' Frequent Roasts, ' ' 

The "Grafters' Own Review." 

With "Mercurys" that mark the heat, 

When public pulses rise. 
But there's no "Venus" to compete. 

For journalistic prize. 
"Dan Cupid" or the "Hourly Dart," 

Might prove a grand success. 
For it would reach the nation's heart. 

The duty of the press. 

We've "Trav'lers," "Sentinels," and "Times," 

Some brilliant top line howls. 
With satires mixed with prose and rhyme. 

And scandal 's monstrous ghouls. 
"Transcripts," "Heralds," and many "Globes." 

With their slick, scouting crews. 
That watch and pray like patient Jobs, 

To scoop the latesi, news. 

The press it wields a mighty spell, 

Its power does hypnotize. 
With all its virtues it does tell. 

The most outrageous lies. 



MISCELLANEOUS 103 

AN ARTIST'S DREAM. 

(sonnet.) 

She stood in flowing robe of pearly gray— 
A dainty blonde, witli form of stately grace- 
By latticed window, where her classic face, 
Caught through the bars the sunlight's lambert ray. 
And o'er her lucent bower the sunbeams play. 
Her slender hand adorns a sculptured vase, 
While hazy tones of blue their queen embrace ; 
With gold and white their homage pay. 

From high lotussed dado and oaken floor, 

Where soft rich rugs in elegance abound ; 

From trellissed azure ceiling, each flower and stem 

Bring forth their charms to make her charms the more ; 

With all the skill of art the gem is crowned. 

An artist's dream— a maiden's diadem. 



YULETIDE APPEAL FOR THE CITY MISSION. 

Ring out ! ring out ! all ye bells, 
Ye merry, merry Christmas bells ; 
Old Yuletide's pleasures soon will flow. 
While evergreens all clad in snow, 
Down in the woods and in the dells, 
From mountain top to marshy fells. 
Are held so fast in winter's grasp. 
While we our kindred treasures clasp, 
Now, from the woods the ever green. 
Is placed amid a merry scene. 
Their yielding boughs with presents swing, 
And little hearts their prayers do sing 
When they lay them down to sleep, 
And prav the Lord their souls to keep 
All safe and sound for Christmas Day 
While other souls not far away, 
With longing hearts leave hopes unsaid, 
Not in a cosy trundle bed, 



104 MISCELLANEOUS 

But from a fold so bleak and drear, 
Their silent prayer, a glistening tear; 
A wish for crumbs, if nothing more, 
From bounteous boards all brimming o'er. 
These little wanderers out in the cold, 
Now help their shepherd warm their fold 
Go gather in this little brood, 
And share with them your Christmas food ; 
Feed all liis flock and make them gay. 
Just fill them up on Christmas Day. 
Ring out ! ring out ! all ye bells ! 
Ye merry, merry Christmas bells. 
Call in this poor, forsaken crew. 
Saint or sinner, this means you. 



AND IS OLD NOAH SO SOON FORGOT? 

Why should our language masquerade. 
In forms that seem so strange '? 

The spell is on this wild crusade 
Would familiar spelling change. 

And when in church we read a salm, 

To follow with a him, 
Could we all keep our features calm, 

And look sedate and prim? 

We should not mind y, h and p. 
They seem all right in Physic, 

And yet, perhaps, we might agree. 
To amputate old Phthisic. 

Each word is but a standard sign. 

So we at school were taught; 
No reason now to spell combign. 

Or write that we forgaught. 

Oin- Noah made for us a mark. 

How each word to render. 
And placed them in his well-filled ark. 

With pedigree and gender. 



MISCELLANEOUS 105 

Now we all know them by their looks, 

For no new tricks we sigh, 
Let infants cram from phonic books, 

With Webster let us die. 



A LINGUAL DIAGNOSIS. 

PHTHISIC 

In Webster it is so spelt, 
But now we have a remedy 
From Doctor Roosevelt. 

How shall we write, Wright, Right and Rite, 

If we must make them phonic ? 
To strengthen and to expedite, 

Please give the needed tonic. 

Upon our tongue to operate. 

We need a learned treatise, 
The useless growth to separate. 

Lingual appendicitis. 

We diagnosis by the phys- 
iognomy of faces ; 

If words look painful should we dis- 
Miss the Greek and Latin basis. 

We are afflicted with a spell 

'Tis hard to swallow fizik. 
When doctors don't agree, please tell. 

How shall we handle phthisic '? 



DECLENSION. 



Said John to Sue, "My love's intense 

I'm in a mood potential; 
Keep not my heart in dire suspense, 

You are to me essential. 



106 MISCELLANEOUS 

*'I love you in the third degree, 
With love beyond compare; 

The subject's old, but new to me, 
This is my first affair. 

"Now, Sue, will you the sentence parse; 

Will you my words decline"? 
I feel you will and know alas. 

You can my thoughts define." 

But Sue is an objective case; 

Too possessive, some might say; 
As teacher she would lose her place. 

So she sweetly parsed away. 



AUTOMOBILING. 

Terrestrial pleasures often find. 
Their break-neck pace pursuing 
The road to a celestial kind. 
Without a thought of wooing. 

O'er flashing sparks of gasoline. 
On rubber tires revolving. 
With vaunted mien man sits serene, 
'Mid mundane things dissolving. 

Hideous mortals, goggle-eyed. 
Bent on automobiling, 
Sniffing its odors as they glide. 
They've got the crazy feeling. 

Chauffeur bending across the wheel. 
O'er hills and valleys bounding. 
Their auto drunk with gas does reel, 
As a sharp curve they're rounding. 

Tremulous symptoms now it brings. 
To earth their spirits clinging, 
The auto swings it seems on wings. 
Into the air 'tis sprmging. 



i 



MISCELLANEOUS 107 

Glorious pastime for the soul, 
That seeks to find that portal; 
That leads from out its earthen bowl 
Up to a life immortal. 



VILLANELLE. 

(two suitors.) 



I have two suitors on my slate, 

I'm not quite sure what I will do, i 

Please guess which one will be my mate'? \ 

One's seventy-five with large estate, ,1 

The other 's poor, at twenty-two, ' 

I have two suitors on my slate. j 

One meets me nightly at the gate, ] 

And there we woo beneath the blue, i 
Please guess which one will be my mate? 

The ancient beau with shining pate, , 

Tells fairy tales of revenue, | 

I have two suitors on my slate. ] 

dear, O dear! such tempting bait, ] 
Yet my poor heart it won't subdue, j 
Please guess which one will be my mate"? | 
'Neath heaven's bright stars I've sealed my date, 

1 give you just this little clue, 
I have two suitors on my slate. 

Please guess which one will be my mate? ^ 



EVENING. 

(sonnet.) 

Adown through the way where the sunset spread 
Its mantle of gold in rich splendent beam. 
Away, far away, o'er forest its gleam. 
Melting in gloiy on the day fast sped; 



108 MISCELLANEOUS 

Into the silence of twilight it led. 

Nought breaks the stillness, save near rippling streams 

Purling a luUabye as in a dream ; 

Whispering spirits from low pebbled bed. 

The blood red sun just piercing the cloud, 
All nature seems drows}^ — falling to sleep; 
Fading, fast fading, day's last ray of light; 
Darkness now folding the earth in its shroud, 
Pale Luna comes creeping out of the deep. 
Moves slowly aloft, and lo, it is night. 



WHY SHOULD WE MORTALS GROWL 
AND GROAN ? 

(ballade.) 
'Tis hard to tell the reason why 

That some are born to diamonds wear, 
While others imitations buy. 

And at their lot they curse and swear. 
Yet each one has his load to bear. 

From mighty king to fool and drone; 
They long to be just over there. 

Why should we mortals growl and groan ? 

That such is life we can't deny, 

At home, abroad and everywhere, 
We hear the humble brother sigh. 

Because he's not a millionaire. 
He has enough and some to spare. 

If on the throne he'd kick and moan. 
And long for his old fashioned fare. 

Why should we mortals growl and groan? 

The dog his comrade does espy. 

And on the bone he gnaws, does glare, 
A brutish greed is in his eye, 

Bred in the bone we are aware. 
And dog and man what brutes they are. 

Nor does his master stand alone, 
For in their greed they are a pair. 

Why should we mortals growl and groan? 



MISCELLANEOUS 109 



L ENVOI. 



Prince, 'mid earth's beauties grand and rare, 
Why should we gnaw contention's bone, 

For man, with brute, in faults compare, 
Why should we mortals growl and groan? 



THREE SCORE YEARS AND TEN. 

The fountain head of all these fleeting years. 
Seems like a dream in time's fast fading past, 
Man's joys have floated on life's stream with fears. 
Through all these di'eamy years down to the last. 

The first half score on limpid, sparkling stream. 
Wending its way 'twixt banks all decked with flowers, 
'Till deeper channels woke another dream, 
And bore the new born soul through passions' hours. 

Old sovereign Nature cuts the cable free. 
Unloosed, the spirit leaves its virgin shore. 
Buoyant with life it greets earth's first degree. 
Stemming the tide on through the second score. 

Deep in the dream when flesh is all aglow. 
When nothing daunts the fearless heart of man. 
Rising and falling on life's ebb and flow 
Man mounts the mortal limit of God's plan. 

Now down the way appears the farther shore. 
Where that one broad, eternal ocean lies. 
And earth worn creatures still long for more. 
Hungering for the Infinite man dies. 



Mortality awaits another birth, 

Into the mystery, unfathomed scheme. 

Born with the flesh, when flesh is born to earth, 

A silent message, — is it but a dream I 



110 MISCELLANEOUS 

NOON. 

(sonnet.) 
The cowbells tinkle 'neath the trees, 
The brazen sunflower droops its head, 
And shadows short on grass are spread, 
The hum and buzz of busy bees. 
Mid blossoms stirred by southern breeze. 
That lifts the breath of flowers that shed 
Rich fragrance from some garden bed. 
The waters move from out the seas 
To shore with languid, surging sound. 
And waves wash slowly up the sand 
Where crisp and brown the seawood mound 
Lies coiled in rolls along the strand. 
Mid pebbles washed around and round, 
Like marbles tossed from childish hand. 



THE CORINTHIAN CAPITAL. 

Sons of Javan ! The ground thy feet once trod. 
Brought forth this regal crown thy genius made ; 
And on its throne of graceful columns laid. 
Drawn from Acanthus shrub on verdant sod, 
Touched by thy artfid power's divining rod. 
Coaxed nature's yielding form from silent glade. 
To sculptured leaves of granite, cold and staid. 
The sweetest note in music's frozen chord. 

The sovereign Planter did to thee convey, 
The highest sense of art, its magic power. 
And blessed the forms born in thy Attic day. 
That grace the modern palace, dome and tower. 
Though fallen in thy grandeur through time and fray. 
Fair Corinth's shaft still holds aloft its flower. 



THE BIBLIOPHILE. 

Odd in his manner, but perfectly sane, 
His fountain of joy unceasingly flows. 
Up in his den where the hail and the rain. 
Clatters o'er roof when the wind wildly blows. 



MISCELLANEOUS 111 

He sits with his friends arranged in long rows. 
Friends who have lived a century or more, 
Some covered in garbs of most ancient clothes, 
This aged collector of archaic lore. 

He has searched for years rare tomes to obtain, 
Every one knows him wherever he goes, 
Today, he's seeking Quixote of Spain, 
In every old bookshop he's poking his nose. 
Among liis old friends he numbers Defoe's 
Robinson Crusoe and over his door, 
Poses a raven on a volume of Poe's, 
This aged collector of archaic lore. 

He dotes on the covers embossed or plain. 
Curious bindings of poetry and prose, 
From German, Frenchman, Italian and Dane, 
They find in his den a place of repose. 
Love for his hobby never falters but grows. 
They are his children he counts by the score. 
As o 'er the long rows his eyes quickly glows, 
This aged collector of archaic lore. 

Spirits departed from all earthly woes. 
Soon this poor mortal will turn up his toes. 
Guide lum in finding these relics of yore. 
This aged collector of archaic lore. 



RONDEAU— IT IS A TRUST. 

It is a trust — I'll put it to the test. 

And from thy lips, my love, 't will be confessed 

That trusting is our trust with hearts made glad. 

The future must be richly clad 

In love and smiles, all from this silly jest. 

I've thought of all things that are for the best, 
To have our union by your father blest. 
Go, ask Inm, darling, and say, "My dear dad, 
It is a trust." 



112 MISCELLANEOUS 

With arms around his neck, do then suggest 
That I've struck an oil well out in the west; 
Pure linseed oil and want a partner bad 
(For he's a painter) and then softly add 
I'll raise his stock to par with interest. 
It is a trust. 



ANSWER. 

that's what pa said. 

That 's what Pa said, he said it slow ; 
That's his peculiar way, you know; 
He placed his hand upon my head, 
And said, "I know him, sells white lead; 
They say he's smart; they call him Joe." 

And Pa then winked his eyes just so ; 
And o'er his face there came a glow. 
He said you said old trust was dead. 
That's what Pa said. 

He said, ^'Go ask him what's the flow? 
If the oil is boiled down below? 
From what seed factory is it fed ? 
He named a town you painted red. 

He said you were "a d d fine beau," 

That's what Pa said. 



HOT WEATHER PHILOSOPHY. 

Waft from Greenland's ic.y mountains. 
Through this incandescent glow, 

A wave of that glacial coolness, 

From where frigid winds now blow. 

These caloric insolations. 
Call for governmental care. 

To bridle old Niagara, 
And pump us fresh Arctic air. 



MISCELLANEOUS 113 \ 

I only wish I could believe j 

While here in the flesh I moan, ] 

That heat is cold and cold is heat, . ] 

I'd make a temperate zone. ; 

But I'm no Christian Scientist, | 

I cannot change the zones, * 

Or crawl from out my heated flesh 

Wliile winds blow through my bones. \ 

Yet, I can dream of frost and snow, j 

Icicles and icebergs grand, I 

Cold charity from the iceman's eyes j 

When he shows a liberal hand. ^ 

The coolest thing that makes me hot. 

Is the coolness that I seek, l 

I cannot regulate its size, j 

Nor the iceman's frozen cheek. 

90° in the shade, August 7th, 1906. \ 



'YAKIGUMA." 



Lo the conquering hero comes, ; 

A would-be admiral. | 
A "Yakiguma" spreading 

Calamities' dire pall 

Over Pacific waters, • 

Whose waves kiss either shore, 

Asia to our Golden Gate, j 

And peaceful tidings bore. j 

Graceful welcome to our fleet 1 

From valiant souls sincere, ^ 
Shall faith now be trampled, 

Or trust thus turn to fear. 

That Japs are fiends, speaks no truth, \ 

Scheming to cut our throats, j 

Hob-goblins to make us build ,1 

A few more navy boats. I 



114 MISCELLANEOUS 

Let's call the Hague to council, 

No duty must we shirk, 
War clouds are black with thunder, 

These devils are at work. 
"Yakiguma," thoughtless souls, 

Who wag their pliant jaw. 
Painting pictures fiercely red 

With agonies of war. 

Mortals without grace or faith. 

Let their ambitions soar. 
With gusto tell fairy tales, . 

And history ignore. 
Our navy is large enough ; 

Time will it increase. 
For mercy's sake, please, Hobson, 

Give us rest and peace. 



LIFE. 

Life is a riddle, who can guess 

Where each and all must go? 
We give it up, but yet confess, 

A portion goes below. 
At least, that part of mortal man 

That carries out earth's scheme. 
Flesh, bone and muscle of the plan. 

The rest goes off like steam. 

Poor breath blown mortals full of life. 

Wound up to run the race. 
Some handicapped by ceaseless strife. 

Some noble souls, some base. 
All mixed up on this planet here 

Fighting like cats and dogs. 
Painted and gilded for their sphere, 

Wild men and pedagogues. 

The motive power from nature's plant. 
That thrills man's vital wires. 

May give our lives another grant. 
As it our thought inspires. 



MISCELLANEOUS 115 

Is intuition but a dream? ■ 

Charles Lamb seems very wise, 

He says it is a ghostly gleam, j 

Of infantile surmise. * 

From inculcated lessons taught, j 

To those of tender years, ;; 

Which in their minds a j^hantom wrought, i 

That never disappears. ] 

The savage ne'er had chalk nor slate, 1 

Or phantom lambs at school, ] 

To figure out their future state, i 

Inborn was nature's rule. ,\ 

Sublime the plan of human thought, i 

The mind that moves the train, I 

Of countless souls whose deeds are wrought i 

By pressure on the brain. - 
Of that electric fluid, the soul 

Which permeates the mind, \ 
Life's wheels go round, they grind and roll 

Until we're left behind. i 

For lack of breath we then are switched, • 

Not quite a century run, \ 

The spirit's fled, the train is ditched, t 

Our record we have won, < 

Engraved on tablets cold as death ■ 

If we have cash or friends, . 

The date we found and lost our breath, j 

And thus life's journe}^ ends. . - 



ART THOU WILLING? ] 

(rondeau.) , 

Art thou willing, black-eyed Sue? | 

Hear your anxious lover woo. ^ 

My boat's waiting on the shore — ,< 

Two can better pull an oar — : 

When dark clouds and storms do brew. i 



116 MISCELLANEOUS 

Life's broad ocean heaves in view, 
'Tis not all to woo and coo. 
Tell me, loved one, I implore. 
Art thou willing? 

With a charming mate like you, 
I '11 be captain, bold and true. 
Scanning coast where breakers roar. 
Singing songs of sailor love 
To perhaps our little crew. 
Art thou willing? 

ANSWER. 

Yes I'm willing, dearest Jack; 
When the clouds look dark and black, 
As your mate, our craft I'll steer 
Neath smiling skies, o'er waters clear, 
I'll study well the Zodiac. 

Sometimes we'll get off the track. 
Mortals are so prone to veer. 
Then I'll show a woman's knack, 
Yes, I'm willing. 

In after years, looking back. 
Don't count virtues that I lack, 
But 'tend to your privateer. 
Seizing prizes every year. 
Fill our home with bric-a-brac. 
Yes, I'm willing. 



SPRINGTIME AND SUMMER. 

Old Earth her frozen zone now turns. 

Slowly toward the blazing sun; 
I wonder if the coal he burns 

Costs twenty dollars by the ton. 

This great free gift from realms above, 

Springtime and Summer's warmth and glow. 

Shows one great Operator's love 
Who does not mine His coal below. 



MISCELLANEOUS 117 

TOM BLIZZARD, MY PARD. 

The painters now hustle and feel of their muscle, 

Eor soon will the season bring 
The same yearly bustle, they must tackle and tussle, 

And be all ready for Spring. 

The season for rushes with ladders and brushes, 

The artists all clean and bright. 
The house-maiden blushes at eloquent gushes 

From the lads all clad in white. 

For every painter is either a saint, or 

A poor, meek sinner in Spring. 
My old pard was no saint or even a painter. 

He mostly worked on the swing. 

He could not paint a flo-or much less a do-or. 

The house clown in the back-yard. 
He never felt sore or thought he was a blower, 

His name's Tom Blizzard, my pard. 

My Tom was no dreamer, he was a good teamer. 

In a show he traveled as clown ; 
He fired on a steamer, and once as a schemer — 

Poor Tom was fired out of town. 

Some called him a dauber, and others a robber, 

He's always on hand in Spring, 
To join the vast mob or to take his own job or 

To do most any darned thing. 

Tom has married a widder, he was a low bidder, 

And got a first-class job 
From rich Mrs. Kidder, the name of the widder. 

Of a millionaire nabob. 

Tom tends to the stable, she cooks for the table. 

Mrs. Kidder f No, not on your life; 
Tom was not able, 'twas young Widder Gable, 

The cook for the nabob's wife. 



118 MISCELLANEOUS 

THE RAKE.— SUCH IS LIFE. 

(rondeau.) 
And such is life, he's in the race, 
Traveling at a rapid pace. 
His mortal frame is geared so high 
The crowd stands still, he rushes by. 
And moralists make sad grimace. 

He's climbed up many a rocky place. 
From mountain high scorched to the base, 
His joyous laugh turned to a sigh. 
And such is life. 

The heartless world he now must face. 
His props are gone, and not a trace 
Witlun his purse can he espy 
Of that almighty reason why 
The crowd gave him its warm embrace. 
And such is life. 



REJUVENATION. 

Of boyhood's days where are the old men, 

Old fashioned at sixty years. 
For we were but kids of eighteen, then, 

When we knew these pioneers. 

In their quaint attire, long beards, snow white. 

With their patriarchal smile. 
These relics have passed far out of sight. 

They now live in modern style. 

These ancient daddies do not abound, 
Nor the old time grandma dame, 

Just take a day off and look around, 
You will find them not the same. 

There's frisky Jan. who's courting May, 

And stylish dame December, 
With all her wealth she elopes away 

With a kindergarten member. 



MISCELLANEOUS 119 

The kids today are as old as they, 

And they seem as young as we, 
For these dear old men have come to stay 

Until they are ninety-three. 

Old Osier has tried to raise a storm, 

To give at forty a pass, 
To another sphere with chloroform; 

We prefer life's laughing gas. 



HOWLING HUMANITY. ] 

O, what complaining, i 

All of us straining, i 

How to impress the rest, I 

What's for the greatest best. J 

Thoughts so fantastical i 

Ideas elastical, j 

Big editorials, i 

Startling memorials, | 

Cunning evasions, ] 

Deep cogitations, j 

Weak legislations. i 

Rich superfluity, : 
Lacking congruity, 
Whispered surmises 

Of worldly disguises, ; 

Wide spread confusion, ' 
Ghastly illusion. 

Some say a burning shame, ; 

Some give another name. j 

Street' car, telephone, j 

Each a dainty bone j 

Of dire contentions. | 

Wonderful inventions, i 

All for the public weal, : 
Yet how the public feel. 

Butchers with patent scales, \ 
Paper and wooden bales. 

All sold for butter, i 

No use to mutter, j 



120 MISCELLANEOUS 

For chemists won't analyze, 

Whiskey where poison lies; 

But milkmen are slaughtered 

For milk that is watered ; 

Coal men have their fun 

Selling by the quarter ton, 

When it is very cold. 

Then they are fearless, bold. 

For we must charge the poor, 

Only just a trifle more. 

There are tricks to every trade. 

For protection they are made. 

Some truths impress us. 

Others distress us, 

Just as the garment fits, 

Or the arrow hits 

Our frail anatomy. 

But now it vexes us. 

Sorely perplexes us. 

The growing enormity 

Shocking deformity, 

Of trust colossal 

With hearts like a fossil. 

Stooping to grasp all. 

Holding so fast all 

They can get hold of. 

Formed in a squirming line, 

Graceful and serpentine, 

Weaving their heartless net, 

Strongly their snares they set. 

Hunch-back monstrosity. 

With all your verbosity. 

Try not to vindicate 

Your trust and syndicate. 

Rich and bombastic, 

Conscience elastic. 

From your high feathered nest, 

Come down and give a rest 

To Howling Humanity. 



MISCELLANEOUS 121 

A FRIEZE. 

A butcher with artistic eye, 

His shop would decorate, 

And if the price was not too high. 

He 'd like to imitate 

A leg of mutton and the lamb. 

From whence the mutton came ; 

A bristling porker and a ham. 

And panels filled with game. 

He called Professor Paul McMan, 

The genius of the town. 

To make a price and draw a plan, 

To give his place renown. 

Paul drew a sketch upon the spot, 

And named the proper price; 

The butcher said the plan was hot. 

And all it lacked was ice. 

"Real ice I cannot make, 'tis true. 

But listen to my scheme, 

I'll paint the border polar blue — 

'Twill be an Arctic dream." 

The witty artist, prone to please. 

Said, "By your frigid rule, 

I 'm forced to give your shop a frieze 

To keep your mutton cool." 



PRISCILLA'S UMBRELLA. 

I am an old miller and there's my umbrella 

That sixty odd years ago, 
I loaned to that dame who now bears my name, 

She'll tell you I wasn't then slow. 

Were the sky bright and clear or a storm brewing near, 

When I called for dear Priscilla, 
In the corner it stood, 'neath her rainy day hood. 

That same, but faded umbrella. 



122 MISCELLANEOUS 

Beneath its broad shade, I first kissed the fair maid. 

Our heads kinder got together; 
Her cheeks all aglow like the red in the bow 

That promises fairer weather. 

My old mill is closed down, and we've moved into town; 

I'm a happy, a happy rich miller, 
Have got children seven; they've got about eleven, 

God bless my helpmate, Priscilla. 

'Cilia often spreads over her grandchildren's heads 

That friend of our youthful bliss. 
And slowly she stoops, as they pass in small groups 

Each for a grandma's kiss. 



THE CHURCH TRIAL. 

" 'Tis sad thus to meet," 

Said old Deacon Sweet, 
Addressing the church committee, 

"We've charges to hear 

That arouse our fear, 
A scandal, the talk of the city. 

"There's dear Brother Bliss, 

He'll testify this 
(We wish to deal justly and fair) : 

He saw Parson Tate, 

The scene he'll relate. 
Brother B., please step to the chair!" 

"I did, with surprise. 

With these my two eyes. 
Gaze on a scene I'll uncover. 

For, true as the book, 

I saw our new cook. 
With the parson acting her lover. 

"On curtains drawn close. 
Outlining his nose. 
And our Bettie, I knew by her mug. 



MISCELLANEOUS 123 

This pantomime strange 
Moved twice out of range 
With kiss, caress, and a hug." 

''Enough, Brother B., 

We'll hear Parson T., 
Who seems to have fallen from grace; 

With tears in our eyes 

Let prayers now arise — 
We'll soon find a man for his place." 

"Please now let me speak, 

My flock, and I'll seek 
To show shadows cast by the way 

Tell coming events, 

With moral intents — 
I've wedded sweet Bettie today." 

MORAL. 

There's naught in the book 

Prohibits a cook 
From wedding a divine ; 

Look out for Bliss's 

Reports from kisses, 
And where your light does shine. 



TIBI SERIS, TIBI METIS. 

The world is full of sleek and sly. 

Sinners who so meekly 
Seek for their mansions in the sky. 

On installments weekly. 

Just once a week they meet and pray, 
Other days they're preying. 

On the toil of human clay. 
Their greedy hearts obeying. 

They fleece the lambs six days in seven, 
And leave them to their fate, 

The seventh drop their knees to heaven, 
And pennies on the plate. 



124 MISCELLANEOUS 

Some day they'll knock, and Pete will say, 

"Call around next Sunday; 
Six days in liell you're doomed to stay, 

Leaving here each Monday." 



THE HEN AND THE OWL. 

'Twas evening and the sun had set, 

And the feathery crew. 
Gather to lay their Easter eggs, 

When overhead there flew 
A fluffy owl with large fixed eyes, 

He lit o'er hens and nest. 
And settling down upon a bough. 

He hooted out a jest. 

"You barn-yard fowls, just look at me. 

See wisdom's ideal bird. 
No cackler like your common self. 

You're foul, that's just the word. 
You lay your eggs, they wring your neck. 

And scald and pick you clean; 
Your labor gets its just reward. 

You are an egg machine." 
Thus he talked, and the pale, cold moon. 

Came forth with ghostly glow, 
Till o'er the hills the daylight broke 

Then all the cocks did crow. 
The roost-cock now spake for his mate 

And roosters far and near. 
Echoed their sentiments abroad. 

With early morning cheer. 

"You are an owl, you hoot and howl. 

Your wisdom's all effect. 
Since you have loosed and wagged your tongue, 

I judge you quite correct. 
Muffled up, you play well your part, 

With cold and staring eyes. 
When stuffed by taxidermist art. 

You, only then, are wise. 



MISCELLANEOUS 12f 



a 



O, wisdom! jeering at a lien, 

Fie, fie, on you, for shame ! > 

Go interview yon eagle's nest, ''\ 

And tell him of your fame. 

When Nature set her schemes to work :\ 

By making bird and fowl, | 

She had a pile of feathers left, | 

And made a useless owl. ' ' i 



It is not always what we are, 

But what we seem to be; 
That fools the many fools on earth. 

Who only plumage see. 
The fluffy, huffy man that struts. 

Who studies wisdom's frown. 
When brought in contact with the wise, 

Is the biggest fool in town. 
Improve youi- talents as you grow. 

And keep a natural shape. 
It's best to be just what you are. 

Don't try to be an ape. 
If you would always seem a sage. 

The fraud won't be detected. 
If you can hold your noisy tongue. 

Look wise, and be respected. 



NOT A CENT IN HIS POCKET TO PAY 
WHAT HE OWES. 

(ballade.) 

Up in his den where the hail and the rain 

Clatter o'er roof when the wind wildly blows, 
Dashing the sleet 'gainst the high attic pane— 

Not a cent in his pocket to pay what he owes. 
Smoking his pipe while the hearth ember glows, 

Flitting strange shadows o'er ceiling and floor. 
There dreams a poor artist in sweetest repose. 

When the landlord raps for rent on his door. 



126 MISCELLANEOUS 

A vision he longs to tear from his brain 

And place on his canvas in angelic pose, 
The form of his loved one, sweet Mary Jane, 

Not a cent in his pocket to pay what he owes ; 
■ Dreams of the maiden in light airy clothes, 

A Lorelei standing on rock by the shore, 
Where the moon glinted waves roll up in long rows : 

When the landlord raps for rent on his door. 

The light of the embers sparkle and wane. 

He gracefully stretches and falls in a doze ; 
Sleeping, he's weaving fresh links in the chain — 

Not a cent in his pocket to pay what he owes ; 
Dreams that the spra}^ o'er his maiden has froze. 

He hears the wind howl — 'tis only his snore; 
Chill air now vapors the breath from his nose, 

When the landlord raps for rent on his door. 

L 'envoi. 

Prince, help the lone artist whom nobody knows. 

Not a cent in his pocket to pay what he owes ; 
Lead him from dreamland to fame and galore. 

When the landlord raps for rent on his door. 



MYTHOLOGICAL MIXTURE DRESS. 

No Delphic Oracles can claim a part 
In their dictation of our modern art. 
Pure ancient ethics we have not outgrown. 
As to our dresses, we design our own. 
We goddesses of A. D. nineteen eight. 
Disdain your counsel for a fashion plate. 
While divided in our views on parted skirts, 
We claim the right to be old maids or flirts. 
And man, poor sinner, has a foolish whim. 
That we, with grace artistic, show a limb, 
Within a sheath gown we can closely twine 
Show our understanding and form divine. 
You, old time nymphs back in B. C, confess, 
Your fairy forms display no over dress. 
Your courtiers they were a classic crew. 



MISCELLANEOUS 127 

And wore their classic clothing just like you. 
Let Themis, Astraea and Nemesis 
Give lectures to Apollo, 'twas their biz. 
But we are doing business on a plan 
That suits our creation to a man. 
We are no myths, we push the world along. 
Followed by an admiring, gaping throng, 
Our modern gods gone crazy, and we laugh 
To see them chasing after, what — a calf. 



THE PRESS. 



No wealth, no strength, no talent can possess 

The sterling power of a united press ; 

Propped on the truth, a lever that must lift 

Nations and people up to righteous thrift. 

This valiant host with wisdom wields a might 

That sermons preached from pulpits cannot slight. 

The press is but the secular annex. 

Which often saints as well as sinners vex. 

The devil in big headlines gets display. 

To show the naked truth. The church can pray 

For cleaner life ; the press with mighty pen 

Will push the cause along with an Amen, 

And spread before the world by text and acts, 

Like good ai)ostles, its inspiring tracts. 



i 

MAN VERSUS NATURE. 1 

The spring's jobs now are all cleaned up, I 

The days are warm and long, \ 

And painters don their white cluck suits i 

To join the summer throng. i 

A coat of green Dame Nature wears, 

The fields with flowers aglow, ■] 

Until cold winter peels them off, j 

And primes with flake white snow. \ 



128 MISCELLANEOUS 

All ready for another spring, 

Her colors to renew, 
She keeps her forces full of work. 

They toil the whole year through. 

Yet ofttimes Nature gets stirred up, 
Seems turbulent and cross. 

Just like some painters who have struck 
Against their mortal boss. 

We Ve heard her thunder growl above. 
Seen lightning on a strike. 

And cyclones rage and blow the dust. 
Perhaps they do not like. 

To work all day and work all night, 
For mortals, who feel sore. 

For toiling just eight hours a day, 
While they work twenty-four. 



ZWEI STEINE. 



Once on a time, the story goes. 

Of two men, Stein and Stone. 
As fresco artists they did pose. 

To fame they're not yet known. 
And each one was a first-class hand, 

In the decorative trade. 
But they could hardly understand 

One word the other said. 

' ' Wissen Sie, ' ' once Stein did say, 

"Was ist die rechte Zeit?" 
All Stone could say was "Nix verstay." 

He learned some words that night : 
The words he learned were — "We feel o'er,' 

Stein understood him — sure, 
And Stone then learned something more. 

He now says: "Wie viel Uhr." 



MISCELLANEOUS 129 

But Stone once said: ''Stein, you are deep." 

Stein thought he called him tlnef. i 

His anger he could hardly keep ; 

Till he found that deep meant tief . 
Now Stone and Stein we know are one, ^^ 

And when alone (allein), 3 

With their artistic work all done, - 

They each enjoy their Stein. 



MIKELITE. 



Mike Engel swung his ten-inch brush, 

To kalsomine a ceiling blue ; 
He and his 'prentice, Jimmy Rush, 

Who all the boys call'd Mickey Glue. 

The paint, it was Mike's new idea. 
To spread it on he said was fun. 

He claimed it dried both smooth and clear. 
Still more, he claimed, it would not run. 

Through Greek and Latin, day and night 
Michael sought some name to fit it. 

At last he dreamed of Mikelite, 
Awoke and swore he had liit it. 

Now Michael he had learned his trade ; 

But Mickey he was fresh and young, 
'Twas the first trial he had made 

To swing a brush and hold his tongue. 

He held the laps for Michael E., 
The very best the lad could do ; 

The day was warm, and so was he, 
And from his brush the color flew. 

From handle and bristle, all the same 
The paint it dripped from brush to shoe ; 

To see the boy you'd change his name 
And call him' Michael's Mickey Blue. 

Mickey's heart was full of woe, 
For his shoes were full of paint, 



130 MISCELLANEOUS 

And lie feared Mike's wrath would flow, 
Knowing well lie was no saint. 

Now Michael, turning, saw the sight. 
And gazing on the spectre blue 

All dripping with his Mikelite, 
He called aloud to Mickey Glue: 
********** 

''I'm here; your sample; that don't run; 

I wish I could, but I might break, 
I am your statue, just for fun. 

Called Michael Engel's Mikelite." 



TWO KINDS OF PAINT SKINS. 

You can soften a paint skin in a pot. 

And for a purpose it suits. 
By grinding them after you've boiled them hot, 

But you can't the skins in boots; 
Wlio figure so low on every job. 

By cutting the price in two. 
And smoothly a trusting client they rob, 

And surely they're robbing you. 

They stick much closer to most every town, 

Than the skins of old white lead. 
It's a very hard job to turn them down, 

Or spoil their great figure-head. 
They handle a brush as a cow would a gun. 

They manage to size and prime; 
They don't even know when a job is done. 

But they know how to figure their time. 

There's Jim Do Little and Johnnie Do More; 

Do More, he does all the talk. 
The number of hands that they have are four, 

They depend on luck for stock; 
Yet jolly good fellows are Jim and Jack, 

That being their stock in trade, 
It would sink a ship the knowledge they lack, 

They know a brush from a spade. 



Xocal 



FISH, CLAMS AND SWINE. 

Tlie finny tribe down in the deep, 

Will soon in dire unrest. 
Dart forth from their long winter's sleep 

To be caught up and dressed. 
To suit our taste, boiled, baked or fried, 

To sizzle in the pan. 
For biting at the bait they died. 

Tempted by cruel man. 
Yet there are fishes in the sea. 

Like men upon the land. 
They smell the bait, then they flee 

For others to be panned. 
This year they get more healthy bait, 

Perhaps they'll better bite, 
For sewage clams are out of date, 

By law they're out of sight. 
Yet hogs we feed on garbage swill, 

We eat their steak and ham. 
On swine we dine, the law is nil. 

But yet it damns the clam. 



THE FIREMEN'S PLAYOUT. 

FALL RIVER, MASS., JULY 4tH, 1906. 

John I. stood on the engine's deck. 

His face all bathed with dew, 
The crowd was large, he stretched his neck 

To view his scanty crew. 

Four veterans hung upon each brake 

To win Fall River's prize, 
Eight valiant souls to win the stake. 

Then to the crowd John cries : 



132 MISCELLANEOUS— LOCAL 

''Ladies and gents: Dear girls, your beans 
Can lend a helping hand; 
Then watch the stream our beauty throws 
With the brakes at your command." 

The girls they did not urge in vain, 

The brakes were filled anon. 
They yelled aloud through wind and rain, 

' ' We 're with you. Uncle John ! ' ' 

With Albert's eyes on suction hose 

And sturdy hands at brakes, 
The nozzle answered, "Here she blows!" 

The old tub fairly shakes. 

Judge Griffin watched the wavering stream, 

Driscoll scanned the paper. 
While Cram's and Gifford's eyes did gleam 

As the spray ahead did caper. 

The hosemen now were all alert, 

Pat at the nozzle blew 
The stream that popped a winning squirt. 

Not quite one seventy-two. 

In nineteen six, on July four, 

John shuffled up the deck. 
He bid on hearts and won the score. 

And Brooks brought home the check. 
To the Veteran Firemen's Association of New Bedford. 



NEW BEDFORD. 

In days of old our white winged throng 

Nested about our quays, 
A whaler's squadron, fair and strong, • 

Their masts, like forest trees. 

Along our wharves six hundred sails. 

If mustered for review. 
Six hundred sails to chase the whales, 

An army, for a crew. 



MISCELLANEOUS— LOCAL 133 

From this old port they sailed away, 

Through every zone to roam, 
They sang farewell to Buzzards Bay, 

To sail for years from home. 



THE PARADE. 



"Say! Cap, i 

Is this N. B. I 

Old New Bedford by the sea?" i 

"Yes, old man, this is the town, | 

Of whaling fame of great renown, ; 

If you don't know •■ 

About this show ; 

You can find the reason why, ' 
Roam around and cast your eye 

Lengthwise, crosswise and otherwise ; 

O'er the place. j 

You'll find we are in the race j 

From Acushnet to the Cove, ! 

I think you'll say we are it, by Jove, ^ 
When you ponder on our size. 

What ! not been here since 'Fifty -five ? s 

Thank your stars you're now alive j 

To see us hustle i 

Old home week bustle. i 

Frenchmen, and Portuguese, ! 

Injuns, and Yankees, : 
And others from foreign lands. 

Helping with willing hands. - 
All in fine feather. 

Pulling together, ! 

Plucking from freedom's soil ^ 

Fruits, by their earnest toil, j 

'Neath our ever growing stars, ; 

Our old flag of seven bars. ] 

We don't bar any, j 

None too many. | 

Well! — yes, there are a dirty few, j 

When they're washed perhaps they'll do. ] 

This is the town we've made. ! 



134 MISCELLANEOUS— LOCAL 

Did you see the grand parade? 

Home trades of every kind; 

Noise enough to cheer the blind. 

Engines new and engines old, 

Each one their story told. 

Firemen in shirts of red, 

Old hand tub 5 not yet dead, 

With John, her mascot true, 

On her deck in full view; 

Bands — they interspersed the line — 

Playing 'Home, Sweet Home' and 'Auld Lang Syne'; 

And there was Tom, who got the cheer. 

Carving records for us here ; 

Bunting streaming from the floats. 

Immigrants in small steamboats. 

Veterans marching 'long the way. 

Brats and striplings all felt gay. 

Showers of fish scales, red, white and blue, 

Laughing maids and lovers threw. 

Say! old man. 

What's your name? 

Smith — God bless you. 

Mine's the same. 

With Captain Clough you say you sailed 

To the Arctic, where she whaled? 

In Tompkins' Twilight I was mate, 

And Mellen's Junior; you know their fate. 

Your name's Smith, and mine is too. 

Say Smith, we are a crew. 

And need a Cap, to steer our craft. 

To see N. B. from bow to aft. 

There's just the man right over there, 

A captain never known to swear. 

Fat and jolly Captain D ." : 

The Cap, he smiled a melting frown. 

And took Smith all over town. 

Saw all the sights, the textile school. 

They spoke of governmental rule; 

They had a view of every mill; 

'Twas Old Home Week, the looms were still; 

And they were a happy crew. 

They knew the old, now saw the new, 



MISCELLANEOUS— LOCAL 135 

And the Smiths they wondered both 
At the Cap's and the city's growth. 
The Cap he winked his starboard eye 
And shook them each with a good-bye. 



THE COMMISSION. 

Hiawatha, please forgive me, 
For these measures I am stealing, 
Stealing from the pen that made thee. 
For this metre makes the gas flow. 
That is gushing from some bodies. 
From their mouths and nostrils gushing, 
Blue flames of satanic laughter. 
That they have killed the Commission, 
The Commission that might stick them. 
Hold their Injuns to their duty. 

They are yelling like papooses, 
Crying that the camp is slandered. 
That we have a bully chieftain, 
That he is the full Commission, 
He can use it as he chooses. 

On the banks of the Acushnet, 

Westward to Apponagansett, 

In the state of Massachusetts, 

Are bright campfires still a-burning , 

And kept blazing by live Injuns, 

Who don't hide behind slick sheepskins. 

But are crying clear the camp ground 

Of its sink holes and its pitfalls. 

Ridicule to some seems funny, 

Because honest scouting parties, 

With their flash lights showed the Nigger 

Hid in ambush, well protected, 

You can't kill these allegators. 

Who unite and tie together, 

Facts that make you howl like thunder; 

Rate a man at his par value. 



136 MTSCP]LLANEOUS— LOCAL 

Is he clean or is lie dirty? 

Why conspire to sting some good men, 

'Cause they talk of V shaped arrows, 

And of wampum, the assessment. 

'Twixt your armor of sarcasm. 

There are some weak points to reach you. 

There are two sides to a question, 

One that smells best is the choicest, 

Close your nose upon the other. 

Agitation helps us Injuns, 

It is medicine in doses. 

Shaken well before we feel it. 

Elevates politic bodies. 

Helps their functions for their duty. 

And supports the weak-kneed sachem. 

Commissions or no Commissions, 

There's law enough lying idle 

To place barbed wire 'round hell's kitchen. 

No, this camp is not infernal. 

But there are spots that lead down to 

Little hells that are a-smoking 

Shan't we try to keep them under? 

If good Injuns want to quench it. 

They will find they've got their hands full. 

Injuns, Injuns from all nations. 

Residing here in this forest. 

Of wigwams both big and little. 

With your squaws and papooses. 

Think for yourselves and think clearly. 

For your heads are made for thinking. 

This tale of vice, is it proven? 

The devil's tail is it wagging? 

Do you know it when you see it? 

Has your Chief got the backbone 

To twist the tail of the devil 

With the law that's fitted for it? 



MISCELLANEOUS— LOCAL 137 

THE PILGRIM CLUB. 

At the meeting of the Pilgrim club last evening, there 
was a debate on this resolution: "That the A. B. C. P. 
M. should not have accepted the gift of one hundred 
thousand dollars, donated by John 1). Rockefeller." 

"J. D. is no saint, acknowledge the taint, 

For he's a great mone}^ winner; 
He's barrels of oil from scheming and toil. 

This noted billionaire sinner. 



"He is a big bee, distilling you see, 

From out of crude oil his money ; 
"His swarms claim the earth, others die at their birth 

Leaving John's hives full of honey. 

"His rebate on train from Kansas to Maine, 

Shut off the wind of his brothers 
J. D., you see, is a most busy bee, 

And yet you know there are others. 

"With righteous intent this money he sent. 

Strange places all dollars have seen, 
A dollar's disgrace can't discount its face. 

You can use it for work that's clean. 

"Each man lives alone in his own mental zone, 
And breathes in his own atmosphere ; 

Some dwell in a trance, their thoughtful expanse 
To others seems doubtful and queer. 

"J. D. through the eye of a needle may spy, 

And try to pull himself through ; 
By reducing his lump, his big monied hump. 

And scatter his wealth like the dew. 

"Let's help him to try to pull through the eye, 

And scatter his large money pile ; 
There are heathens enough to use up the stuff. 

And mosquitoes to smother with ile. 



138 MISCELLANEOUS— LOCAL 

"In our houses of glass it seems quite a farce 

To note the stones we are throwing, 
How harshly we judge, it seems like a grudge. 

There 's good 'mid the tares John is sowing. 

"Perhaps he's a trust beyond earthly dust 

And liis future seems to him clear; 
When in pocketless shroud he drops from the crowd, 

And says to St. Peter, ' I 'm here. ' 

' ' Through half open gate St. Peter '11 say, ' Wait, 

We are paving a street of gold, 
The heathens you saved have got it most paved 

And you soon can enter their fold.' 

"If to reach the shore of that bright evermore 

The devil should lend us some aid; 
The means and the end we should comprehend. 

And see the bright side, not the shade." 



TO THE PILGRIM CLUB. 

PRELUDE. 

In simple prose the naked truth seems cold, 
'Tis better far if clothed in measured rhyme; 

And if perchance these verses seem too bold, 
Pronounce a fitting sentence for the crime. 

CARDS, CLUBS AND PILGRIMS. 

Within this sacred pile we sinners meet. 

To spend a creedless, merry, social hour; 
To see, to feel, to taste, each sense to treat 

Beneath the moon-faced dial in the tower; 
That slowly marks Time's flight through night and day, 

Where hourly clangs the bell's huge brazen tongue, 
Rings out, 'tis gone, the hour has passed away, 

And o'er our heads the nightly curfew's rung. 

We are a social crew, we need no screens. 

We always strive to furnish drawing cards; 
Alas! our pack is minus of the queens. 



MISCELLANEOUS— LOCAL 139 

The club's a good excuse to your home pards. 
For clubs are trumps you tell your queen of hearts, 

Of course, the guileless creature she don't know; 
To save her all the worry, needless smarts, 

Show your card, the dues, vouched for by Lowe. 
By this, you may the madam's fears allay. 

But if at ten o'clock from here you go. 
Don't say you stayed until the break of day; 

For what would happen then, perhaps you know. 

Each man at birth is dealt a virgin hand 

To shuffle and to deal, as he should know^, 
With his five senses at his own command. 

To win or lose, as he plays high or low. 
For every sense we should a rule affix. 

To test our sight, if we are color blind; 
Perverted taste our senses often mix. 

Try first your spade and diamonds you may find. 

All earth's good things for man held in reserve, 
Should test the wisdom of our will's command; 

Subservient to our own moral nerve. 
Let a wise head control the easy hand. 

That man's a brick, we often hear it said; 

Environment has baked his plastic clay; 
With a flush hand he paints the town bright red. 

He's but a pilgrim that has lost his way. 
He'll find it by and by, when he has cast 

And scattered to the winds all his wild oats 
He'll drop the game and say that he has "passed," 

Experience will bring the antidotes. 

There's the self-righteous man, who claims no sin. 

Presumes his perfect soul contains no chaff; 
His lofty sense of purity within, 

Envies the prodigal fatted calf. 
With their muck-rakes Pharisees dredge for tares, 

Seek not for virtues in their brothers born; 
To heritage of sin they are not heirs, 

This is the kind that healthy sinners scorn. 



140 MISCELLANEOUS— LOCAL 

'Tis not to moralize on things so drear, 
Or blame ourselves for what is past and gone; 

Let's sip the sweets of life and be sincere, 
And heal the smarts from the adamic thorn. 

We have three Vices, whose virtues bring success. 

Our President fills well the foremost place; 
As for the others we must here confess. 

They do reflect our leader's social grace. 
As we again behold another spring, 

We find our membership completes the roll, 
The Pilgrim Club with ease we now can swing, 

Nourished to this great strength by our own Sowle, 
The task seems easy now to raise the dough — 

Nuts for the table, coffee, crackers, cheese, 
And we are flush and try to make a show. 

For we are the four hundred if you please. 

With lights turned down 'tis here we sit and gaze. 

Upon the screen and visit distant shores; 
To view the wonders of earth's ancient days. 

From England's realm down to the fair Azores. 
Ireland's green hills we've seen, her lakes, her shrine 

Where politicians kiss the Blarney stone; 
She sends us crops of cops from o'er the brine 

To don the star and club within our zone. 
Up through the sea bordering Africa's soil, 

Down by old Egjq^t, through the river Nile, 
We travel free from scent of smoke or toil; 

By steam this pilgrimage would take our pile. 

We note our pilgrim's progress fills the hall. 
We have no Bimyans but on our feet — 

We travel through the summer to the fall. 
Again around our festive board to meet. 

This pilgrim tale has hardly yet begun. 

The balance to this club I now assign. 
To some member's eldest great grandson. 

To read in April, nineteen ninety-nine. 



MISCELLANEOUS— LOCAL 141 

Hoping each pilgrim here can now digest, 

This well intended, sugar-coated dose. 
It is high time to give your patience rest, 

With benediction bring it to a close. 

May Life our lives with purest pleasures fill. 
While we are clinging to this mundane hub, 

May we with grace swallow each bitter pill, 
Fraternally within this Pilgrim Club. 



JONTOMIKIE. 

AN EPIC. ! 

On the banks of the Acushnet, j 

Westward near Apponegansett, j 

In the state of Massachusetts, ] 

Dwells a tribe of busy people. | 

In olden times they went fishing. 

For the mammoth whale and porpoise. 

To press out oil into wampum, 

Built their wigwams on the hillside, ! 

Sloping up from the Acushnet; 

Built them 'neath the elm and oak tree. 

Eastward, westward, northward, southward, j 

They made trails to all their wigwams. j 

Founders of the old Wamsutta, 

Founders, too, of the Potomska, j 

Some are living, some departed. j 

Now the young bucks of the tribe came, i 

Held a council, chose a young buck, \ 

Who appeared in all his glory. \ 
The squaws they called him "handsome Sharla," 

With his braves he was the grandest; ] 

All his people gathered wampum, | 

For their chief knew how to use it. \ 

Planned a wigwam for papooses. j 

Like a palace all the plans were; | 

Heap big Injun, whole-souled Sharla. j 

He had a heart big as an ox's; j 
For many moons he was sachem, 
This noble brave Sharlaashla. 



142 MISCELLANEOUS— LOCAL 

Now the tribe commenced to ponder, 
As they saw the wampmn shrinking, 
For they knew there was a limit; 
And they held another council, 
Called by big brave known as Toma. 

All his tribesmen came together. 
And they had a grand old powwow. 
Biggest seen within a wigwam. 
They named Toma as their chieftain. 
When he brought them into battle. 
His tomahawk led in scalping; 
But volleys of V shaped arrows. 
Shot by many foes in ambush. 
Gave the fight to Sharlaashla. 
Toma's first fight for his tribesmen. 
On the banks of the Acushnet, 
Westward near Apponegansett, 
In the state of Massachusetts. 

Winter passed and springtime opened. 
Yet there stood that same old limit. 
Like a ghost it haunted Sharla, 
He appealed to chief of chieftains, 
Sachem of all Massachusetts, 
And that sachem answered "Nixy; 
Live within your means and fix it." 
Sharla hied him to Wyoming, 
To hunt arrow heads of copper. 
With which to fight life's hard battle, 
And to study out the problem. 
How to get his tribe a sachem. 
For he felt he'd reached the limit. 

Autumn leaves again were falling, 

Filling trails before the wigwams. 

While the tribe was sorely kicking 

For ample appropriations, 

To clean out the village rubbish. 

For which the tribesmen needed wampum. 



I\rJSCELLANEOUS— LOCAL 143 

Now returning from Wyoming, 

Sharla with liis tribesmen hustled, 

Older warriors would not listen, 

Somehow their souls were not in it, 

And they tried to sing a Bent-lay, 

To the tune of Sharlaashla, 

But at last they found a brave buck, 

Seated in his village store house. 

Bric-a-brac adorned his wigwam. 

Pipes of peace and pipes in pieces. 

Through which once the smoke went curling, 

Through the roof among the tree tops, 

On the banks of the Acushnet, 

And they hailed him chief Makoola. 

He said he longed for the war path. 

To shake his spear dressed in war paint. 

Till they cried enough he^d fight them. 

And his smile lit up the wigwam. 

Farther up into the village. 
On the fourth trail from the river. 
Stood brave Toma in his doorway. 
In the doorway of his wigwam. 
Arrow heads he cut from granite. 
Shaped in marble angel figures. 
Carved in letters when departed. 
And their advent to the forest. 
''With a look of exultation. 
As of one who in a vision. 
Sees what is to be and is not," 
Stood brave Toma in his doorway. 
And with pleasant smile he uttered, 
"If my tribesmen do not Avant me. 
They've had time enough to know me. 
They can take some other fellow; 
They have a quartet to choose from; 
They have Ika with his mustangs, 
Who lives right across the trail there; 
And our herb man, sachem, noble; 
And our brave Yona Makoola. 
When the forest rings with battle, 
When the arrow heads are flying, 



144 MISCELLANEOUS— LOCAL 

Then beware of the V shaped. 
They are poisoned headed arrows, 
Used by sneaks who lie in ambush." 
Thus spoke Toma in his stone yard, 
Figuring out the situation; 
Wlien there passed a cheeky warrior. 
And the warrior said to Toma, 
"See behind you, all those idlers. 
On their haunches in your wigwam; 
Why do they not go a fishing? 
Why do they not go a clamming? 
What supports their papooses'?" 
Toma spoke and looked behind him, 
"They're all our night watchmen, 
They loaf and sleep in the day time; 
They are welcome to my wigwam; 
They can sleep in my stone yard; 
You'll find more over to Ika's, 
Right across the trail you'll find them; 
Sharla has some in his wigwam. 
Decked out with more brilliant feathers. 
They are part of our good people ; 
They all earn an honest living; 
The world is full of funny Injuns. 
Go ask them if they have papooses. 
They may say. Go mind your business. 
I believe it is your business. 
Now, good bye, my brave warrior; 
Methinks you are our wood's reporter, 
Gathering leaves for next Sunday, 
Autumn leaves so dry and flashy, 
For to please the simple minded." 

On the banks of the Acushnet, 
Westward to Apponegansett, 
In the state of Massachusetts, 
All the tribesmen now are busy, 
Making arrows for their bowstrings; 
From the oak tree forming war clubs, 
Dyeing feathers for their head gear. 
Some sing songs to Hiawatha, 



1\ITSCELLANE0US— LOCAL 145 

Some have songs quite aquatic, 
Some still sing in praise of Sharla. 

The old braves, sedate and pensive. 

In their wigwams on the hill top, 

Heard the j^oung bucks whoop their war cry, 

And they pondered on the outlook, 

And they pondered over Ika, 

Cast their gaze upon the herb man 

Thoughtfully they spoke of Toma, 

Reached the limit in Makoola. 

In the northwood Peoleera, 

In the southwood Yonameana, 

Scratched their heads in confusion. 

Watching for December's Tuesday, 

Following on its first Monday. 

Eastward now from Padanaram, 
Eastward from Apponegansett, 
Across the hill to the salt stream. 
Of the flowing, old Acushnet, 
Watched the people for the red fire, 
For the ending of the battle, 
And to hail the brand new chieftain, 
Who would aid the willing people. 
Strive to live within their income. 
And allow the digger Injuns, 
Work sufficient to support them, 
And their squaws and their papooses ; 
To clear all the leaves and rubbish, 
From the trails within the village, 
And to use their precious wampum. 
To relieve them not to swamp them. 

This the tale of Jontomikie, 
And the herb man with his balsams, 
This the prelude to the finish, 
Of a fight that is four cornered, 
From the west side to the east side. 
From the north end to the south end. 
Let the people show their wisdom, 
Know which side their bread is buttered, 



146 MISCELLANEOUS— LOCAL 

They don't want an under study, 
But a brand new able chieftain, 
Who knows the right, dares to do it, 
With a will like his own granite. 
Make Tomatee our big Injun, 
Peace will come within the wigwams, 
On the banks of the Acushnet. 



AUG 30 19fl 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



